Precept of Destiny
by Caradryan
Summary: DISCONTINUED. SEE FORTUNE'S PROVIDENCE The malicious Grail seek to alter time for its own strange purposes. As each hero hold onto their dreams and ideals in this epic struggle, events rage out of control. Can the laws governing reality itself be broken
1. Corruption, Despair, Destruction

Fate Stay Night, Saber, etc belong to TYPE-MOON. Please refrain from suing me outright. Thank you. 

Author's note: After a brief hiatus, I'm back in the world of fanfiction-writing. While some bit still need to be tweaked for grammar and so on, most of the stuff on here are in their final forms. I would really like to thank 'Mac, a friend of mine for proofreading and helping me fix structure errors. Yuurei, for being my "editor"/plot stabber, and the numerous legends in which I draw my ideas from. Along with everyone else who reads my story. Thank you. Without you, this wouldn't be here.

Fate Stay Night: Precept of Destiny. Prologue, Part I.

The night was young, and the moon was shining. Amid the soft glow of an ancient city long past, a certain young ruler reclined in his lavishly decorated throne room, silently brooding. At first glance, he appeared to be a young man of no more then twenty years who wore an outrageously ornate and well-crafted suit of auric plate armor. A closer inspection unveiled something else. His flashing, rubicund eyes told of victories against unimaginable foes, of valiant, but merciless charges in an age past; of power, glory, and all that came as the ruler of the legendary city of Uruk. Instead of wearing the mask of arrogance as he was accustomed to wearing, he seemed much more compassionate, magnanimous, even. With a sigh, he rose from his bejeweled throne.

The idea of defeat was rather new to Gilgamesh, as he paced about his throne room, silently mulling over his recent loss in the last battle by a mere Saber-classed servant and an upstart young magus who didn't even knew his own feelings. Gilgamesh was someone who loved victory and knew how to obtain it, and as such, he abhorred losing, even when realizing that he was fighting for a wrong cause. Remembering the doubts he had during the Fifth Grail War, he quickly shrugged that uncertainty away.

_I, Gilgamesh, lord of Uruk, son of Nisun, savior of my people, wielder of the sacred flames… Wrong? Impossible, I cannot be mistaken. She cannot be right. She was simply lucky that one time._

**_But was she?_** A nagging little voice spoke softly to him. **_You thought Kotomine was right._** The voice continued**_. Recall him, and his selfish motives. Is that what you wanted? Face it. It was fate. It was fate that caused you to lose. _**

"Fate… The term is familiar, yet at the same time foreign to me…" he mused, thinking back to that conclusive encounter. "I know of the meaning, or so I thought…"

"What is fate? Why does fate happen? What did she have…that I did not? Where did I err-"

Gilgamesh's thoughts were interrupted as he heard a loud rumble behind him. His throne room was circular, and there were several small but adorned doorways leading away from his throne. With a start, he turned around and realized that the Gate of Babylon, his own personal Noble Phantasm was activated and was humming, completely devoid of his command!

_This isn't right…_ he thought. Ever since the Fifth Grail War, and the complete destruction of the Holy Grail itself, the treasures were sealed away. He knew, because he did the sealing himself…

Slightly irked, Gilgamesh faced the amethyst glow. The monarch was tired of bloodshed, of being summoned at one's beck and call, and used as a servant, and slaughtering mindlessly as well as committing countless atrocious deeds… Sighing, Gilgamesh rubbed his temples, willed it to close, and closed his eyes.

_This must be a dream. I'll pinch myself, and when I open my eyes, the Gate will be closed, I will not be pacing like an idiot, and I can return to my civil affairs tomorrow morning. I was napping again when I should be judging and I knew I shouldn't have had those roasted almonds and dates for a midnight snack…_

The humming and the lavender glow continued.

Gilgamesh opened his eyes, which immediately widened in surprise. Contrary to the immediate closure, the Gate did not as much as even pause, but continued to expand, until it reached its full size. The lavender glow was suddenly replaced by a smothering amaranth light.

He blinked. Something was definitely out of balance. Instead of displaying thousands of Noble Phantasms that he collected, he saw that here and there, powerful weapons were missing. Those that remained seemed to be afflicted by some negative glow, as their radiance faded away one by one. Gilgamesh felt a moment of dread, as if a familiar presence lurked by. The air sickened him, and he sensed something.

_It feels like that day…when I was tainted.._.

Brushing the thought away, the lord of Uruk instinctively concentrated and called to his own weapon. It made him feel better to stand with a weapon in his hands.

_Come, my blade. Uruk have need of you once more. _

Instead of feeling the familiar weight of the three feet long leaf-blade in his hands, he felt nothing. Enuma Elish had refused his call.

Startled, Gilgamesh attempted the invocation again. He saw the honed golden blade, the long, elegant tips of the weapon, and the finely etched cuneiform writings along the blade along his mind's eye.

"_When in the height heaven was not named,  
And the earth beneath did not yet bear a name,  
And the primeval Apsu, who begat them,  
And chaos, Tiamut, the mother of them both  
Their waters were mingled together,  
And no field was formed, no marsh was to be seen;  
When of the gods none had been called into being,  
And none bore a name, and no destinies were ordained;  
Then were created the gods in the midst of heaven…_

_Come forth. Enuma Elish. And show the wrath of Eu!"_

Still nothing. The supernatural light turned darker, and took shape in familiar black ooze. The sight sent a chill down Gilgamesh's spine, and involuntarily, he took a step back.

_Impossible. Someone sealed my weapon, and is accessing my treasures! _ He reasoned._Such a thing cannot be happening! The one thing that was capable of carrying out a deed like this was destroyed! The Grail have ceased to-_

_**The Grail. **_

The light suddenly vanished, and darkness reigned. The ooze took a more definite, albeit shadowy humanoid shape. The humming grew louder, and became a buzzing sound. Above the relentless buzzing, the shadow howled. It was a ghastly, eerie cry of challenge.

Gilgamesh was no coward, but he did know that engaging an enemy without a weapon or access to his Noble Phantasms equated suicide. Being the wise, opportunistic, and battle-hardened warrior he wisely turned tail and fled. In a slightly dazed and borderline panicking state, he rushed down the winding staircase, away from his room and off the Ziggurat.

* * *

_The Grail have returned! But how? How? Was she not successful? How typical. Leaving a woman to do a man's work. If it was me, I would have taken that thing out in no time flat. Not that I wanted to destroy it, but maybe there was no other way…_

As he approached the bottom, Gilgamesh heard voices…voices of pain and screams of pure terror. He rapidly dashed down the last few flights of stairs.

_"I am never, ever, ever having the royal architects design my palace in that ridiculous pyramid fashion again. 128 flights of stairs to the top…no wonder my servants and subjects seemed reluctant to come visit me._

Gilgamesh hastened out of the entrance; what he saw made his heart sank a few inches.

Uruk, the city of Seven Sages, his beloved city was aflame. What was the epitome of civilization was now on the brink of collapse. Wild, unnatural black flames rampaged through the streets. Everywhere he looked he saw the fearful faces of his subjects, who attempted to salvage their belongings or searched for loved ones. By the time he passed the town square, most of the northern wall has been obliterated and the market district was completely ruined. The flames now licked the eastern and southern walls and even as he stood for a moment to evaluate the extent of the damage, the builds in the temple district burst into flames.

"My lord! What shall we do?"

Gilgamesh wheeled around and saw a regiment of his soldiers, already armed and prepared for whatever threat was near. His heart swelled in pride for a moment, and he began to feel like his old self, the one that was in control. His commander, Assur gave a slight bow and nodded.

"Guards!" he shouted. "See to the people, and make sure they stay safe! Find my Magi, and order them to enchant your weapons and see if they can't figure out what the hell is going on. You, Assur, you take Nimrud's unit and move them towards the civilians. Get a bucket chain set up and try to put out the fires. And you, Akkad. Take your men and see if you can find out more information."

The soldiers hurried to their tasks. Assur, however, hesitated. His king was acting strange. Well. Stranger then usual.

"My lord? Where are you going? Are you not going to fight the fires with us?"

Gilgamesh gave a reassuring nod. "I have unfinished business to take care of at the Royal Library. Eu's blessings upon you."

Assur, evidently relieved, turned back and confidently shouted orders at his men, and they scurried off towards their destinations.

Gilgamesh sighed deeply. If only he shared the confidence of his subordinates…

_Now is not the time. I must move._

* * *

_Feh. I know it was too easy to get rid of that thing. Luckily, I have prepared for such an event. _

Gilgamesh abruptly turned and ran up a set of flights, where he knew it would take him to the royal library. He prepared a sort of an "emergency overload button", as he learned from the humans in the future just for this occasion. Such spells were hard to craft and even harder to design. This one was no exception. As he passed through the library, he eventually reached a tablet hanging on a seemingly blank wall. Gilgamesh gently tapped the tablet twice, and recited a long string of syllables. The wall immediately faded away, and the ruler of Uruk passed through.

He looked around. The room was filled with tablets. One large clay tablet and countless smaller clay tablets, all gently orbiting around a small purple orb. Each of the tablets were inscribed with a different motif and symbol, and some had images carved on them as well. Gilgamesh stepped into the room and whispered a phrase, the purple orb disappeared and a chromatic glow surrounded him, momentarily putting his mind at ease.

_Excellent. The command spell hasn't been tainted. This is good. And the ward spell's still in place after all these years. Much better then what I anticipated. _

Gilgamesh closed his eyes, and took in a deep breath. He began murmuring in a spidery, arcane tone. The writings on the smaller tablet glowed and patterns began to appear as they organized themselves into arrangements. Suddenly, a deep black mist surrounded the small secret chamber. The prismatic barrier immediately flared up as the shadow began pounding on the shield.

_So. The old grail bugger won't go, eh? Well. Let's see how he enjoys facing more heroes. Good thing that ward spell's powerful stuff. _

The larger tablet levitated and began drawing the smaller tablets closer. Gilgamesh's tone is now harsher, more insistent, while the glimmering barrier faded bit by bit under the relentless assault of the mist.

_This will work. _

As his chant rose to a crescendo, the tablets began spinning in a wilder circle around the larger one. Then, as one, they collectively melded into the larger tablet. The larger tablet then exploded in a shower of light, and a thousand vivid lights were dispersed in all directions, out of the chamber, and into the world.

At this time, the shadows broke through. The colorful light shone once more, and disappeared. They bared their shadowy fangs at him.

Gilgamesh laughed. A bitter, disdainful laugh, the laugh of a man that faced death head on yet knowing that victory will come through.

"_Fool. If you were only a bit faster…"_ he thought, and turned around to face his adversary. Pulling out a small, ornate marble like object, Gilgamesh smirked.

**Beeeeeeettrrrraaaaayyyyyyeeeeeeeerrr….. Beeeeegggg forrrrr meeercy…..yoouurrr time….hasss come…..!** The shadows called to him.

"Yes. Perhaps my vows have been broken…."

The shadows reared up, and poised to strike.

"…Yes, perhaps it is I who will fall here today…"

The shadows screeched and dived at him.

"… but an evil, twisted, and utterly corrupted thing, the likes of you…will never see me on my knees!"

A blinding flash filled the room, followed by a large explosion. When the dust cleared, Gilgamesh was gone.

* * *

Across time, in another land, a lady knight was writing tirelessly under the dim light of a few lit candles. The room was sparsely decorated, with a bed, a few chairs for visitors, and a sturdy writing desk. There was a gleaming sword which hung above the writing desk on a plaque, but otherwise, the room lacked decorations of any sort. The lady knight was just dressed as modestly as her lodgings were. She wore a long sleeved white tunic with a simple crest along the hem.

Bedievere fiddled with her hair, sighed and looked back to her diary. She was tired, but determined to keep going. She wanted to finish this entry.

_…and everything doth appear to be going well. Lancelot and the rest of the Questing Knights art doing the best they can to patch the kingdom back together. It hath been, of course, no easy task with our liege's passing. Rumors saith that Merlin hath returned, and tis also helping with the harvest. It is good that such joyful tidings art being circulated. After the battle of Camlann methinks everyone tis glad for a break._

_….it goes without saying, that we all doth miss our liege, Arthuria. She hath passed away but a few month ago, yet it hath felt so much longer. Like years. As we gather at the round table, it hath felt empty. Without her amiable voice, her quiet and disciplined demeanor, nothing hath felt proper. As we walked the halls of Camelot, it was gloomy, less pleasant. More then one knight hath commented that it feels unbearable without her. They speak truthfully. All of us hath missed her and still doth miss her. And more than once, I hath been pressed for details about the last moments of Camlann…_

_I hath been there, thou knowest? I hath been with her when she passed away._

_…I couldst remember it like it was yesterday. Leaving her under a tree, I hath been about to go and search for reinforcements when suddenly I hath heard her mumble my name. She hath told me that she saw a dream for a while, and she asketh me if the dream mayn't continue._

_"Shall I see the same dream again?"_

_How could I saith no? I seem to be cold, almost heartless in battle, but tis because I art practical. I knoweth that one canst not afford to be merciful or offer kind words on a battlefield, and yet…_

_How couldst I hath said no?_

_"I believe that if thine wish is strong enough …yea. Yea, my liege."_

_Arthuria hath smiled at me then, a deep, relieved smile. Whatever she was dreaming about, I dost hope with all my heart that the dream shall find her again._

_"Bediviere. Take mine blade, cross this forest, over that bloodstained hill, and there tis a clear, tranquil lake …returneth Excalibur to the Lady of the Lake. Go now. Taketh this as mine last request..."_

_I hath nodded numbly, knowing that she hath only perhaps some hours, nay, even minutes left to live. I hath rode like never before, and the howling wind didst cut into my skin. Whereupon I hath reached the lake, I hath carefully lowered Excalibur into the water, thinking that it wouldst sink._

_However, Excalibur levitated towards the center of the lake, wherefrom a feminine hand tooketh the pommel._

_"Here then, Excalibur shall rest. Until it tis required again."_

_Excalibur flashed once more, and then it hath disappeared underneath the lake._

_When I hath returned to Arthuria's side, I knoweth that she couldst not fight it much longer. I was actually not surprised at her resilience. One look at her bright green eyes, and anyone will understand. In her eyes, there was an unquenchable fire, a fire of …something. She was not afraid to die, was never afraid of death. Arthuria had a core of inner strength that one seldom sees._

_"Bediviere…"_

_"Yea, My liege?"_

_"Hast thou return'd my sword to the Lady of the Lake?"_

_"Yea, my liege."_

_"Good. Be proud of thyself. Thou hast done what I requested. Thank thee."_

_Bediviere bit her lips. That memory was almost too painful to recall. She closed her eyes, and exhaled, then continued to write._

___  
A still silence hath fell in that forest on that fateful day. Sunshine softly shined upon her regal face. A mild breeze blew through, and her melancholy gaze rested upon me. She seemeth then somehow regretful…about something._

___"Bediviere…" she struggled._

___"My slumber this time … mayhap be a bit long…"_

___Through a haze of tears, I hath attempted to reply. But no response wouldst come to mine lips. Arthuria gently closed her eyes._

___"Dost thou, my liege…" I hath asked, quietly._

___"Behold the continuation of thy dream?"_

___Arthuria's lips didst curve, and her face hath seemed to be lit up in a smile, as if she hath heard mine inquiry._

___She was gone  
_

___ The funeral ceremony was a gloomy one, as we could not even locate, much less bury the body of our beloved sovereign. It was hard to explain, but Arthuria seem'd to hath …vanished. It was like a miracle of sorts. The name of Arthuria have already turned into several legends, some about her being alive somewhere and well, and some about how she await'd in Avalon, and such. I honestly don't know what to believe now. She was just…gone._

___Lately, strange events hath been occurring. Creatures of legend art seen. Dragons, griffons, unicorns were sighted. Weapons that were long lost were found. Heroes of lore have returned…times were surely unordinary.  
_

___What was stranger was that a completely cloaked individual visit'd me about a few eves ago. Though my visitor was cover'd head to toe with thick, dark blue shawls, I knew that the voice was a woman.  
_

___It wasn't the visit that was surprising though, it was of what she told me and what she gave me._

___"Behold. Bediviere. Finest of the loyal knights. Here be Excalibur. And thou shalt be its keeper, until the rightful owner of the blade cometh, and claimth the duty once more.  
_

___She handed me Excalibur. I felt the slight hum of the blade, the perfect balance, and knew she was not jestin  
_

___As I stood there, dumbfolded and quite shocked, the visitor disappeared. Since then, I hath follow'd her instructions and hung the blade up in my chambers. It was a good reminder of the joyful times past. At first, it would glow when one touches it, but tonight, it hath been glowing nonstop. If this keeps up I fear I needeth to obtain Merlin's assistance…_

_Bediviere closed her diary. She needed sleep, and writing isn't helping her tonight at all. Whereas she used to find solace in writing, tonight, she felt different. Excalibur's relentless glow wasn't helping the situation. Frustrated, she stood up, took the sword down, and shouted at it._

_"Why are you acting like this? Do you have something to tell me?"_

_"Bediviere."_Bediviere froze. That voice. It was so familiar to her that she thought she'd never hear it again. That gentle yet firm tone. It could belong to no other, yet she is…

___Bediviere. Thank you. Thou hath remained loyal and kept my blade for me._

Bediviere turned around. It is now, that she saw her visitor for the first time. Clad simply in an unadorned blue dress with an empty sheath, green eyes dancing, her visitor gave Bediviere a smile  
She immediately kneeled and handed the sword over without question. It was more of an automated movement then anything else. Shock, joy, dread, doubt, all of these feelings ran through her at the same time.

Arthuria took Excalibur, and placed it in her sheath. She turned around.

"My-my liege! But how?" Bediviere rose. There were so many things to ask, and so many things to tell her beloved liege. But to her horror, Arthuria was disappearing. Her king was dematerializing!

_"I will explain. For now, just wait… and have faith in me…" _Came a light whisper, the response somewhere in the morning air as the first rays of sunrise obliterated the darkness.

Bediviere nodded, and looked at the rising sun. She could almost hear an echo in the background. Smiling, she went back inside and resumed her daily work. Today seemed much brighter and cheerful._  
__"have faith in me…"_


	2. Shifting times

Fate Stay Night: Precept of Destiny, Prologue Part II.

Emiya Shirou was bored.

Actually, bored was an understatement. It was only the second day on summer vacation, and already he wished to go back to school. Shirou didn't like school. But it was better then staying alone with nothing to do. Heck, the house keys weren't in his possession, so he was not able to even go outside and take a walk in the nearby park. Shirou briefly considered using tracing to trace a copy of the key, but decided against it. He gave the door a fleeting glance, and took off his sneakers. It would have to wait.

He looked around the house for something to clean or repair. Shirou felt the urge to do something, anything to keep his mind off past events. He found nothing. Fuji-nee took Ilya, Rin, and Sakura shopping this morning, so he knew that he would not be able to see his friends for some time.

Which meant…it was time for home improvement.

_Well, there was an old saying… "When something's broken…fix it. When something's fixed… break it and fix it better." _

Smiling to himself, Shirou took out his toolbox and moved toward the nearest appliance. It happened to be the old refrigerator. He loved to tinker with things, but despite the support of the skill reinforcements, the art of tracing and his deft hands, everything he attempted to "fix" never worked well. Disaster was generally unavoidable.

Actually, his "home improvement" was one of the main reasons Rin placed a spell of temporal stasis shock upon most of the common household appliances. The idea, as a smirking Rin told him was to "prevent the idiot from breaking every electric-powered gadget in the house through his well-meaning but often ill-resulted repairs."

Shirou gingerly poked the contraption. He was in luck. _Rin forgot to refresh the spells today!_ Chuckling to himself, Shirou immediately went to work.

_Let's see now. If I can change this circuit here, I will be able to improve the power output…_

The circuit that Shirou was looking at was a small pad located inside the refrigerator door and below the freezer. He figured that all he needed to do was change a few wirings and it would be set. Shirou rummaged through his toolbox and quickly took out a screwdriver, a wire clipper, a small wielder and several other devices. When he pried the cover off, he found to his dismay that the wires led to the top of the fridge and into the freezer instead of being located at the spot he thought it was at. Shirou squinted. This wasn't good…

_Aww, man, this means I have to work inside the freezer. Oh, well, I guess the other old saying was right. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." But I can't stop now, can I? _

After a long struggle, Shirou finally reached the last wire that needed to be rearranged. He stuck his head inside, supported himself with his left arm and reached furiously with his right hand. All he needed to do was clip that blue wire right there, and he would be finished.

_Almost…got…it…almost…_

"**EMIYA SHIROU!"**

Shirou jumped when he heard his name. Forgetting his precarious position, he instinctively reared up…

…and hit his head squarely on the freezer door. Shirou lost his balance and tumbled down. He flailed for a handhold, but pulled apart a fistful of lines instead. Boy, wireclipper, frozen shrimp, tuna steak, and a host of frozen goods came crashing down. The poor fridge spluttered dark smoke, whined loudly and shut itself down.

"Why Shirou, what an interesting method of relaxation! Is it comfortable being under the crabsticks and veggie mix?" asked a smiling Taiga, who walked in with a bagful of groceries. She proceeded to place them into the refrigerator.

"Shirou, were you trying to raid the ice cream drawer again?" snickered Rin. Behind her, Ilya was rolling on the floor, laughing, and even Sakura was giggling just a tiny bit.

Looking embarrassed, Shirou crawled out from under the pile, peeled off one particularly aggressive pack of dried herring which was stuck to his face and attempted at an explanation.

"Well, uh… you see…"

* * *

A swordmaster silently meditated in the Ganyru dojo. Dressed entirely in shades of purple and lilac, his traditional Hakama and Haori gave him an air of scholarliness, even an erudite appearance. His hair was done in a classical long topknot, and there was an aura of calm and harmony around him. Having retired to his own time, the carefree duelist wanted nothing more at this point to relax, enjoy the scenery and perhaps have an interesting spar or two with his students. 

However, the dojo was empty. He understood well enough. Things were not going well. Though Lord Toyotomi Hideyoshi had consolidated power, bandits, ronin, and bands of raider still prowled the countryside. Rogue daimyos still held out at various prefectures, and law was not yet restored to the land.

_Adding famine, warring ninja clans, harsh taxes, negative rumors, and war…it was no mystery as to why the art of kenjutsu slowly faded away in this age. People have enough trouble keeping their families alive without having to worry about swords…_

_Ah, well, this state of chaos cannot stay forever. Life will get better._

Assassin breathed deeply in the summer air, enjoying the sweet scent around him. He inhaled the fragrant smell of many flowers, and exhaled contently. He loved nature, and all of its aspects. Many warriors of his age despised it, thinking that nature was something to be conquered. He saw otherwise. To him, nature had a quality of beauty, a quantity of tranquility that nothing man-made could match. Instead of wenching, indulging in alcohol and feasting, he preferred a different style of relaxation. He enjoyed being still, and viewing the sakura and peach blossoms in the spring. The many voices of nature in the summer, the flowing leaves and gentle rays of the sun in autumn; the blanketing snow in winter…those were the things he found enjoyable.

_Silence is good. No clash of steel, no irritating voices, no rowdy, drunk, monks singing tonight…though I should be expecting a visit from them soon. They haven't bothered me in quite some time. _

The night was quiet. All was still. No wind, no frogs, not even the insects were uttering any sounds. It was quiet.

Too quiet.

Assassin gripped his long katana, Monohoshi Zao, and his muscles tensed. With one fluid motion he stood up and drew his glittering blade.

_Since when have the frogs stopped singing at this hour?_

He stilled his body and allowed his senses to take hold. Azure eyes shining, Assassin relaxed and maneuvered himself to the right, keeping his blade in guard position. He heard the floorboard groan to his left, and immediately sidestepped…

...As a huge glisterening black sword whistled down, striking the exact same spot he was standing on mere seconds ago. The blow cleaved through the floorboard, and sent splinters flying.

Assassin dropped the guard position and shifted to an evasive one. Parrying a blow would not be enjoyable. He was also curious at his opponent's choice of weapon.

_An odachi... Interesting. I haven't seen one of those in a long time._

Assassin willed the lights of his dojo to life. Large lavender candles immediately sprung into light and doused the room with their luminescence. The six foot long weapon was held by a black shadowy creature of some sort. The creature was humanoid, yet the oozy and sludgy presence gave it no distinct appearance. It turned away from the light, howled, beckoned with its weapon, and placed itself up in the classical "Challenge" stance.

The expert swordsman replied without hesitation. He gestured with his own blade and answered the challenge. Assassin then shifted positions, dashed forward and made a series of small probing cuts and thrusts.

The shadow creature parried the cuts and responded with a ferocious swing. Assassin parried the attack, grunting from the effort. The force of his adversary's strike knocked him back two paces.

_Ouch. Definitely not fun._

After a few minutes of trading blows, Assassin had an idea of what he was fighting. The creature was about eight to nine feet high, and it seemed to be hesitant whenever it moved toward the light. An interesting observation he made was that the creature was composed of part shadow and part black ooze. The fact that his opponent moved clumsily, depending on large, powerful blows instead of finesse confirmed his theory. This thing had something to do with the Grail.

Thinking of the Grail angered Assassin. The Grail was the antithesis to all that was natural. His movement was now swifter, much more aggressive. A series of strokes and swipes broke past the creature's guard and scored four deep gashes.

The creature bellowed in pain and staggered back a step. Black ichors dripped on the floor.

Assassin pressed his attack further and seemed like a violet blur. Monohoshi whistled in the night air, occasionally meeting metal but more often slashing into shadowy flesh. After a particularly nasty cut, the creature stumbled, and loosened its grip on its weapon.

_Gotcha. _

Sprinting at his opponent, Assassin gripped his sword tightly and brought it up in a strange position, leaving his entire left side vulnerable. Seeing an opening, the creature quickly thrust its massive ebony blade at the head of its adversary. The shadow growled in triumph as it delivered the final blow…

…and missed. Assassin had vanished.

"**_Never, under any circumstances engage your opponent in a frontal assault. If your opponent should do so, be wary; either they're foolish…or have surprises in store!"_**

Assassin suddenly materialized behind the creature, then on its left, as well on its right simultaneously. He was one and three at the same time; three entities, three faces, three gleaming edges.

_"_ _Reality Refraction Phenomenon: Tsubame Gaeshi – Swallow turn reverse cut!!!"_

Three unavoidable strikes cut deeply into the shadow creature. The force of the blow cleaved through flesh, shattering the beast's black sword and extinguished all the candles in the room.

It screeched, fell to the ground writhing, and slowly disintegrated.

Assassin looked at the remains grimly. He cleaned his sword, and sat in the darkness for a long time. Eventually, he understood what he needed to do. Though reasons unexplained, the Grail was still not destroyed.

_As long as the Grail exists…I cannot rest. My pact has not yet been fulfilled. Previous masters might not have wanted me to destroy it, but now I must for the sake of harmony. _

He briskly walked to his private chamber, packed a few essential belongings and searched his drawers for something.

_Hm. I could have sworn that it was here somewhere…hah. Here it is!_

With a triumphant look on his face, Assassin withdrew a small shiny object. It was a jade key. He placed it in his pockets and disappeared into the summer night.

_I wonder if I remembered to close the eastern window on the second floor…_

Author's note: Slight revision has taken place.


	3. Nidhogg

A/N: Kek. This is the new and improved version of Chapter 1. Thank, Mac, for helping me with it!

I hope it's satisfactory. It goes without saying that all FSN related original characters belong to Type-Moon and that sort of disclaimer stuff. Need to thank Mac and Ted for reading over this and giving me tips. etc. Thanks, guys.

Fate Stay Night: Chapter 1, part I

* * *

Fate Stay Night: C2.

A kettle whistled lightly as it boiled. Shirou quickly took it off the stove and poured some hot water into a blue porcelain teapot.

_Mm. Nothing like a hot cup of tea in the afternoon._

Shirou stirred his cup of green lemon tea with a small spoon. After the minor fiasco with the fridge (which he did reverse the damage, thankfully) and a rousing game of Twister (which ended up in a mess because Ilya tripped and knocked Rin over, with the result of everyone landing on him), he decided to unwind for the afternoon.

He looked at his tea. Shirou was never a fan of strong alcohol or fizzy sweet drinks, preferring the soothing aroma of his tea. He used to like red, but for some reason he stopped brewing it. Taking a sip of his beverage, Shirou allowed his mind to wander. Not surprisingly, he began to daydream about a certain individual again…

_I wonder where she is now… I have always wondered about the choices I made. Should I have done what was needed, or should I have followed my heart? I miss her. _

_**Do you regret what was done?**_

_No. I do not. Looking back, I realize that deep down inside, that was what I had to do. Though I wanted her to stay with me, though I wanted to be selfish, I could not abandon my ideals. I could not ignore what was right!_

_And besides, alls well that ends well. Even if I have the ability to alter the past, I do not think I would change anything. For then, it would not have been me doing the choosing._

_Still, to think if there was any other way-_

A loud tap on the front door quickly knocked Shirou out of his reverie. He bounced up from his seat and looked at the door. The tapping continued.

_Must be those lousy door-to-door salesmen again…I thought I already told them we're not buying atomic powered pickle-slicer bottle opener toothbrushes or whatever they were selling…_

With a grimace, Shirou placed his hand on the doorknob and deftly twisted. The door slowly creaked open. He poked his head out, expecting to see another snazzy dressed, well-mannered but pesky road-warrior hell-bent on cajoling his money out of him.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we're not interested in whatever you're selling. Please go away-"

Shirou did not see a door-to-door salesman. He didn't even see something remotely human. What he did see was a familiar gargantuan ashen axe-club. The weapon was colossal, with the head of the axe being at least two feet long. The gray material appeared to be exceptionally heavy but shone with a dull glow as if it was enchanted.

_That looks familiar…_

Staring in morbid fascination, Shirou looked at the muscular arm that held the mace. A part of him screamed and told him to run, run as fast as he could, but he remained in the same location, unable to move.

The wielder of the axe-club was no less impressive then the weapon itself. Standing over two and half meters, the adamantine skin gave him a tough appearance. Clad in a plated kilt and heavy greaves, with dark, matted hair, Shirou's visitor would put any bodybuilder to shame. This being was raw brute power incarnate.

"B…B-B..Berserker!" Shirou yowled. He was definitely not expecting this to happen.

_What is going on? I thought the Grail war was over! _

Berserker snarled and lifted his club, prepared to strike.

Shirou quickly gathered his thoughts and contemplated a path of action. He considered tracing Calibourn. He also considered fainting. As he decided on the first method, he heard the whistle of a large heavy object traveling rapidly through the air.

Jamming his eyes shut, Shirou waited for the end.

It never came; instead, he was met with booming laughter. Confused, Shirou hesitantly opened his eyes again.

_Wait a minute. Is Berserker…laughing?_

The massive warrior was indeed guffawing as he placed his weapon down. Shirou peered at the giant.

"Ahahaha! I can't believe you fell for that old trick! You should have seen your face there, Oh mighty-hero-of-the-Grail!" chortled a voice behind him. Surprised, Shirou turned around…

…And saw a familiar being sitting on his couch. Wearing a tight sapphire colored suit, silvery pauldron gleaming in the afternoon sun, this second person was nothing like Berserker. With his ultramarine hair (complete with ponytail), azure earrings, and well-shined boots, he resembled not so much the hero of yore but rather a charismatic pop-star that would not have looked out of place in a local concert. However, judging from his agile movements, carefree attitude, and that long spear, with its pattern of blood red ivy and the barbed tip resting comfortably in his lap…there could be only one man in all of time that behaved as such.

"Nice tea you got there, Shirou. Looks nice, and smells nice too! Mind if I help myself?" said Lancer as he stretched, yawned, reached toward the teapot, and poured himself a cup. Popping back down on the couch, Lancer nimbly twisted Gae Bolg and snagged himself a package of cookies from a nearby shelf.

"Uh…" Shirou nodded dumbly, his brain absorbing and analyzing everything that had happened during the past minute. Too much was happening at the same time. He was confused, and just didn't know what was going on.

The sound of a door being opened to his side brought him back to the present.

"Shirou! What happened- HOLY! Lancer? Berserker? Why- How, wha-what is going on here?"

It was the first time Shirou has ever seen a shocked Rin. He'd seen her alarmed, afraid perhaps, but never genuinely surprised. Ilya, who followed along seemed to be just as wordless as he was.

An uncomfortable silence followed, with the magicians gawking and the Epic Spirits staring, neither side making a move.

It was Lancer who broke the silence.

"Cookie?" he offered, with his mouth still full, and thrust the pack at Rin. "They're really pretty good."

Rin regained her composure, thoughtfully took one, and chuckled. Suddenly, the tense atmosphere was broken as everyone laughed or sighed in relief (as in the case of Shirou). Ilya spoke.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"It is a long story." Berserker rumbled in his baritone voice.

"We have time," replied Shirou, who had just now begun to understand the events that had passed.

"Why don't we settle down first? I'm sure we all have something to share."

* * *

Berserker sat down on the floor. Compared to his spartan lifestyle, it was comfortable.

_Where to begin…_ he mused. In truth, he did not know. He did not understand everything either, for he was a simple fighter. Berserker cleared his throat.

"Well. Allow me to explain the pieces that I understand. You knew me as Berserker, as well as by my true identity, Hercules. After the Fifth Grail War, I thought my torment was over, that I could finally return to my own time and live among my people. That was not the case."

"Wait. WAIT. Before you start the story, why are you and Lancer here?" asked a puzzled Shirou, who was still attempting to grasp the concept that he was speaking to a (supposedly) mad and powerful giant who a few months ago wanted to bash his head on sight.

Berserker shook his head. He did not know.

"So, you're just as confused as us here?" Ilya beamed. "Great, that means we'll be able to work this out like a detective story."

"But I still don't understand-"

"Hey, I haven't heard this. Leave the poor guy be." retorted Lancer as he popped another cookie in his mouth.

A clouded look came to Berserker's face as he continued his tale.

"One day, those...things came. They were man-like, yet they weren't men. The tainted essence of the Grail was in them. I fought them off time and time again, but I found my strength being drained. Each time I called upon the power of Zeus, and God-hand, my power diminished little by little."

Ilya gulped. She didn't know the powers of a Noble Phantasm were capable of being weakened. "Do you know what is causing this?"

"I… do not know, but I knew that as the power of God-hand decreased, so did my self-control. I lashed out more frequently, became more aggressive. Instead of being protector, I ended up harming others more then I helped. Finally, I had enough. I exiled myself and looked for wisdom. When the Oracle of Delphi instructed me to seek the future, I did, and thus I came using the gem she gave me." Berserker held out his palm. He was holding a small beryl jewel that glittered as the sun's rays touched it. Taking that to be the end of Berserker's tale, Lancer began to speak.

"Just as your God-hand weakened, so did my weapon. Gae Bolg no longer struck its target. Or when it did, it flew in sporadic directions," Lancer thoughtfully commented as he started on his second pack. "You understand, Gae Bolg's not supposed to miss. Wait, did those things you fight resemble some sort of shadowy-oozy-goozy sort of generic evil henchmen shape?"

Berserker nodded.

"Aha. Thought so! That's kinda what I had to kill. Rather mucky, you know? And they seem to come in all shapes and forms. It's easy to clean up though-at least they don't leave a mess!" Lancer cheerfully commented.

"Why look for us though? The Association surely had much more powerful mages then us. Take Ilya and Rin here, I know they're good, but they're nowhere near true Magus," Shirou shouted. He was getting sick and tired of not understanding anything. _Can't life be normal for a change?_

Both Lancer and Berserker shrugged.

"Hold on," snapped Rin, who had been quiet up until now. "You mentioned that the creatures you fought reminded you of the Grail? How do you know? How can you be here, on your own accord and will? How can you sustain yourself without any source of mana? Lastly, you guys came after us, out of all people, and yet you don't know what you're facing, the problems that you're trying to solve, or even your reasons for being here!"

Silence filled the chamber. Neither Berserker nor Lancer knew what to do or say. Finally, Rin haughtily broke the silence again.

"Typical. Well, let's try to figure things out one at a time, alright?" She smiled. "Berserker. You tell Taiga-san that you are Chou, a cousin of Shirou's from China, and Lancer…"

"Excuse me, guys. May I have a few moments alone? I need to mull this over.", Shirou inquired politely, rising to his feet. Rin paused in her planning, thought for a few seconds, and smiled again.

"I suppose it is safe enough. Still, with what these guys told us, we better be careful. Take care, and don't be too long, alright?"

Shirou nodded and put on his shoes. As he stepped out, he sighed in relief. Today was too hectic for him to take all at once. He needed to think.

* * *

**_Oh? I thought you wanted action. Thought you were bored._** Said the other half of his mind as he paced towards the one location he knew could give him peace.

_Not at the cost of more innocent lives. What this looks like is another Grail War.._

_**The World could be at stake, you know? Didn't you want to be a hero? What could be so bad about saving the world?**_

Shirou didn't know what to think at that point, but he arrived at his destination, a familiar temple on the top of a certain mountain. He stopped. A great many things had happened at this location. He sat down in the grass and looked at the world below him.

_**Look at it this way. This isn't so bad. You'll be able to save the world, right?**_

_Right...but how many lives will be lost in order to save it? For that matter, do I even know what's going on?_

_**No, but isn't it best to look toward the greater good? You didn't know what was going on when you entered the Grail War either, but look what you did. Can you imagine what would have happened if it fell into the hands of Shinji?**_

_...but isn't it better to try to save everyone, and not just the most you can?_

**_You're hopeless. _**His inner voice told him. **_But hey, you know what this means, right? If Lancer and Berserker are back, you know the others will be too.._**

Shirou had no logic to argue against that, and he smiled. It would be nice to see Archer again, he had many things to ask. He could talk to Rider, Caster, or Assassin, as well.

_..and I could be with Saber again_. He thought_. Six months after the event took place, and I can still remember every little detail about her.__Man. This must be what love sickness is. _

Once again he found himself day-dreaming. Angrily, he brushed the thought aside. He had more important things to be worried about now.

"Thinking about Saber, are you? How tragic. Too bad you will not be thinking of her for long."

Shirou spun around and narrowly missed being impaled on a spear of some sort. Startled, he jumped to the side and landed in a crouch.

"Your agility and reflexes are impressive, though I doubt it is enough to save you."

Shirou stared at his assailant. Fully nine feet tall, this stranger was clad in bear fur. Several amulets made out of bone dangled on his wide leather belt, and the man wore a strange headdress of wolf pelt that resembled a howling winter wolf. He grinned, and beckoned with his long lance, which was shaped like a black dragon's head. Two dark gemstones gleamed on the tip of the weapon, and the tip of the spear appeared to almost be breathing.

"Come now; pull out whatever weapon you choose. Ulfheoinn will not allow his enemies to fight without arms!"

_Ulfheoinn? Just who is this guy? No matter. He seems to mean business. Everything's been going crazy lately. First seeing Rin shocked, then a Berserker that was talking, add Lancer and a crazy half-naked wolf-pelt wearing man who is trying to stab me…_

_Oi. I think I have had all the excitement for one day. Let's see if I can pull through. _

Shirou concentrated and decided to materialize a sword. It was the only weapon he had some proficiency in. He grabbed a loose branch and focused.

_Trace on._

_Basic Composition…Defined._

The branch glowed, and slowly smoothed out. It became metallic, almost silvery.

_Material Composition…Defined._

The branch stopped glowing, but it was no longer a branch.

_Atomic mass…Defined._

Shirou looked at the weapon that took shape in his hands. It was two feet long with a thick but straight blade. The sturdy weapon had a distinctive S-shaped hilt, and felt good in his hands. The sword gleamed in the afternoon sun.

"A katzbalger? I thought better from the winner of the previous Grail War!" snarled Ulfheoinn as he charged Shirou, spear in hand. Shirou rolled to the side, and held his blade in a two handed grip.

"Why not a Noble Phantasm? Why not Caliburn or Balmung? Do you mock me?" Ulfheoinn spun his weapon and stabbed the ground. A circle of shockwaves rippled from the point and caused Shirou to momentarily lose his balance. Seeing his opponent stumble, Ulfheoinn dashed and viciously stabbed forward.

"I will give you the grace of a quick kill!"

To his surprise, the boy did quite well for himself. Though he was not exceptionally skilled with the weapon, the large, figure-eight shaped hilt offered additional defensive capabilities, which allowed him to block or dodge most of his attacks. _Though his parries were clumsy and his retaliation skills were almost nil, the kid isn't half bad. Too bad he won't stay alive long enough to improve._ Ulfheoinn grinned, jabbed, and saw his weapon blocked again.

_This looks to be fun after all. The Grail was right in promising that this would be interesting._

A panting Shirou brought his sword up once again. He was thoroughly exhausted. Ulfheoinn's blows were powerful and parrying them hadn't been easy. He wondered why he didn't trace a more powerful weapon, but remembered that he would probably would have run out of mana long before now. He had suffered more than a few nicks and scratches, and one of his legs had been pierced and was now bleeding freely. His katzbalger was in no better condition. It was filled with dents and one part of the guard was wholly shaved off by his opponent's spear.

His adversary on the other end was not harmed at all, nor was that surprising. Ulfheoinn wielded the spear like it was an extension of his body, and the sheer reach of his weapon put Shirou at a severe disadvantage. Without hopes of even getting close, there was no possible method in which Shirou could reach his opponent.

Ulfheoinn thrusted his lance at Shirou, who barely managed to bring his sword up to guard position. The impact stung, and dropped him to his knees. Ulfheoinn's face lit up in a wolfish smile as he drew back for another strike.

**_Concentrate, Shirou._** A voice in his head said. **_You have to live through this. Remember all your friends that you have to live for. Remember Rin, Sakura, Fuji-nee, and all the others._**

Blackness threatened to claim him as Shirou staggered back up to face his opponent. Clashes of steel rang out as his sword whined under the pressure of his opponent's blow.

_**Concentrate, Shirou. You have a part in saving the world. You have to live through this.**_

Shirou made a weak slash at Ulfheoinn, who deflected his attack with a simple brandish. Ulfheoinn then drew back, quite flamboyantly, and beckoned him on.

"Well, boy? Tired yet? Give up! Fighting is a man's work!"

_**Concentrate, Shirou. You have to live through this. She will never approve if you died. **_

_You're right. I have to live through this, if only for her…_

"No, not yet." Shirou straightened. He knew he looked pathetic at the moment with blood trickling down his face, but he didn't care.

"I'm nowhere near done!"

He dashed forward and lunged. Surprised, Ulfheoinn swiped at him. The swipe came too late, however, as a thin line of blood appeared on the tall warrior. Shirou landed unsteadily on his feet. He didn't know how many more of those were left in him.

"Heh. So you've managed to nick me…"

Ulfheoinn scowled. The look sent a shiver down Shirou's spine. Whereas before something reasonably noble lurked in those icy eyes, now the orbs are feral, almost predatory.

"You will regret ever having blooded Ulfheoinn, the Wolf of the North!"

Ulfheoinn held out his weapon as it began pulsing with power. The black dragon head glowed with a dull brilliance. Ulfheoinn grinned again and hurled the weapon.

"Do you know what this is, boy? This is Nidhogg, the Black Shaft!"

Shirou's eyes widened in surprise as he saw the strike coming; he raised his katzbalger in defense. All the while, his mind searched frantically for something that could save him.

_Nidhogg …is the legendary Dragon gnawing at the roots of Yggdrasill._

"Nidhogg! Break him like you will on Ragnarok!"

As the spear flew at him, the dragon head came to life. Howling, the black dragon rushed at him with the force of the earth behind it.

"Meltdown – Shattering Strike!!"

The katzbalger shattered into a thousand fragments as the spear made contact. Shirou screamed out in anguish as the force knocked him back. He reeled, spat out blood, and collapsed in a heap. Every bone in his body felt broken. He was sure that some of them were. All the same, he couldn't do much now. He could not even get up, much less offer resistance. It hurt just to open his eyes.

The grass rustled as a gentle breeze gathered about him.

"Any last words, boy? I thought to give you a swift death, but that won't happen now! I will enjoy crushing your bones!"

_Well, I guess this is the end. I'm sorry, Saber…I guess I'll never see you again._

Closing his eyes, Shirou waited for the darkness to claim him.

_Dying… I never thought I would actually die. In a sense, I guess this isn't too bad. There's even a pleasant breeze to send me on my way. Maybe I'll see you on the other end, Saber…_

* * *

Ulfheoinn grinned. It would be easy to smash this kid's head in now. _Too bad he's no longer conscious to feel the pain._ He thought as he took a step towards the prone form on the ground.

The wind intensified. The gusts hit him with a chill that he was not used to. From his Scandinavian homeland, taking the cold was like breathing. And yet this was nothing that he had experienced before. Snarling, Ulfheoinn took another step forward. A little air wouldn't stop him.

The gale howled at him, its torrents lashing his body. Ulfheoinn was knocked back. Startled, he tried again, and was met with the same result. Trying with all his might, Ulfheoinn could not approach his fallen prey. The wind was simply too powerful.

Frustrated, he shouted at the wind, "What is this witchcraft?! Show yourself, you sniveling coward!"

"You are the coward," replied the wind. From the tempest emerged the speaker. Despite her lithe figure, she was completely unaffected by the storm.

"You dare strike an opponent while they are down?"

Her tone was melodious and regal, yet her was voice firm. Ulfheoinn had to squint to see this new arrival clearly in the wind. She was garbed simply, wearing a cobalt colored dress and a sterling breastplate. The twin ribbons holding her blonde tresses fluttered wildly as she presented her sword in a knight's salute.

Ulfheoinn stared at the sword. The blazing edge almost blinded him as he forced himself to look at the blade. The sword was also simple in design, though the intricate pattern of the hilt told even him that this was no simple weapon. A cross followed by two triangular patterns followed a shield-shaped emblem. The two-handed weapon rested comfortably in his opponent's gauntleted hands. A hallowed aura radiated from the weapon.

"I ask you once, and only once. Leave this place, and return to the darkness where you came from!"

Ulfheoinn growled, and took a step forward.

He was immediately repelled with a force unlike anything he had ever faced before. The sheer power of the wind tore several deep gashes into his skin. Roaring, he charged again

A clang sang out as Nidhogg flew out of his hand and landed some thirty paces away. Ulfheoinn blinked dumbly, and found himself staring at the tip of a bright sword. Viridian eyes aglow, the lady-warrior stared at him.

"Do you yield?"

Ulfheoinn faltered, hesitantly taking a step back.

"No?"

Ulfheoinn jumped, and stumbled back several more steps.

"Then leave my sight, knave."

Ulfheoinn snatched Nidhogg and scurried into the sunset, quickly dematerializing. Soon, he vanished completely.

* * *

_Light. _

_There is light somewhere.  
The light hurts my eyes. _

_Am I dead? Dead people aren't supposed to hurt, right? I must be alive still._

Shirou stirred, and immediately wished he hasn't. He hurt all over, and as he became more attuned to his senses, he smelled blood.

_Where am I? What time is it?_

That's when what happened during that afternoon all came back to him in a rush. He struggled to get back to his feet. He has to warn everyone! There was a mad, dangerous, Epic Spirit afoot! He didn't know why Ulfheoinn didn't kill him, but he wasn't going to stick around. He has to tell his friends!

_It's a minor miracle that I'm still in one piece. My head hurts, and I feel sleepy, but I have to try…_

Shirou stood up, took a step, and fell over immediately. His legs refused to obey him.

_Argh…Perhaps a nap is good after all…_

As he closed his eyes, he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. He painfully opened them again…

…and saw familiar green eyes filled with concern.

"Saber…?" his voice came out in a croak.

"Hush, be still. The threat is gone."

"Saber… Is it really you?"

Saber gently smiled and nodded.

"I can't… I don't… This feels like a dream. This is a dream, isn't it?" despite all his injuries, Shirou felt glorious. Joy, simple and pure, bubbled within him. If he died right now, he would still be content. He closed his eyes and clasped Saber's hand. This moment was one he would remember for all his life. Maybe beyond.

_She came. She really came. Saber's alive. _

"HEY! YOU! YEAH, YOU. STOP BEING LOVEY-DOVEY AND DON'T GO DYING ON ME AFTER I SPENT ALL THAT TIME BEING YOUR RUNNER-BOY!" huffed Lancer as he rushed towards Shirou with an armload of medical supplies. Behind him, he could hear Rin's light steps and Berserker's heavy footfalls.

Shirou sighed and relaxed. Everything would be fine now.

A/N: Critique is welcome. Thank you for reading.


	4. Knowledge is power?

Author's note: Irishification of Lancer is under way. Sorry for the lack of updates. Between laziness, finals, dead computers and whatnots, I had stuff written...Just never bothered to upload them. XD

Fate Stay Night: Chapter II.

"Told him to be careful… told him to stay safe… but Noooo, Had to go ahead and get himself mauled. What is it with Shirou and trouble anyways…?"

A disgruntled Rin muttered to herself as she searched through her family archives. After the encounter today everyone was slightly high-strung. Saber stood watch over Shirou's bed and did not move away from his side at all. Tension was high in the air around the Emiya residence as even Lancer, who was usually laid back suddenly became somber and serious as he volunteered to stay up and keep watch.

Arguing something about "safety" and the "value of students" and so forth, Taiga Fujimara had insisted on her staying over. Rin smiled as she remembered the little encounter.

As she was getting ready to leave, Taiga stopped her with a light tap on the shoulder. The (slightly) lethargic but often preppy teacher demanded that Rin room in one of the guest bedrooms for the next week or so.

"No, Fujimara-sensei. I'm afraid I can't. It would be too much trouble for me to live here, even when on summer vacation. I really appreciate the gesture, and understand that we are close friends, but wouldn't it be wise for you to be responsible and allow your students to continue developing their independence?

Besides, you already have two more mouths to feed." She added as an afterthought.

"It was really polite of you to think on our behalf, Rin," responded Taiga, beaming. "We've got room, and you'll be no trouble at all! Although, Chou's a pretty big guy, and it does look like he eat a lot... Wait! You're trying to distract me, aren't you! Look, Rin, the plan's perfectly fine with me. Shirou'd agree with me too, if he was conscious at the moment. Besides, I'm not being responsible myself by letting you room by yourself in that big ol' creepy house!"

"But…Taiga-sensei! I will be fine-"

Taiga gave her a glare that would have made fear himself flee like a scared little newborn pony.

_Wow. Taiga really does look like a tiger when she's angry,_ thought Rin as she gulped and involuntarily took a step back.

"NO. BUTS."

Rin smiled again as she tucked the memory away in a fond little place. In truth, it was an excellent idea. Rin did not mind the company or the fuss, and the bustling household was a welcoming change from her lonely mansion.

Hazel eyes skimmed through various titles on the shelves. A lover of reading herself, Rin had added to the library over time. The Tohsaka family amassed an impressive hoard of literary, philosophical and arcane works. Containing even original manuscripts, its extensive records matched any individual private collection.

_Come to think of it, I cannot remember that I have ever enjoyed this much attention. Not since father-_

Blinking hard, Rin continued her search.

_Ulfheoinn…Wolf of the North…I know for a fact that I've read about the guy at some time during my training. If I can only remember when, or which book that contained the information I sought I'd be set..._

_However. I've already gone through the sagas. This hero is not mentioned in the Prose or the Poetic Edda. The Runes say nothing about him, and the Tyrfing cycle also came up with nothing. _

She thumbed through the spines of books, looking for something that would spark her memory or help her with the information.

_Oh. Otou-san, why didn't you leave me your notes? It would have made things a lot simpler._

Rin stood up and opened a small crack in one of the windows. She has been searching for an hour and a half without much result.

A warm breeze from the summer night wafted in through the half-opened window as moonlight shined upon a cluster of particularly dusty tomes. Taking it to be a divinely inspired sign, Rin reached out and grabbed one of those, her face lighting up as she carefully blew off the dust and read the title of the book.

"_Fightin' In A Nutshell: The Complete Abridged History of the American Civil War?"_

Sighing, she put the book down. This search is going to be lengthy at best.

* * *

Berserker paced around the room, his hair swishing on the ceiling. The former bedroom turned infirmary was filled with the bitter smell of medicine, but the normally cluttered room is now much cleaner after Saber have gone through and hauled out everything she considered "superfluous". A cricket chirped outside as he looked to the dark skies, then to the two silent figures in the room.

"How is he?"

"Neither good nor bad. Battered, yes, but he is alive. Shirou has a slight fever in addition to several broken ribs and numerous bludgeoning wounds. He was also bleeding profusely. We have so far dressed his wounds and managed to staunch the bleeding, but we do not know why he is not able to regain consciousness. It is lucky that whatever hit him was not magically enchanted to cause additional harm. You should get some rest, it does no one good if all of our strength is spent." Saber replied evenly, giving him a small stare. She was wiping Shirou's brow with a small blue handkerchief.

Berserker chuckled. He once went for six days without sleep, wrestling a giant. He severely doubted that he needed any rest, but in the interest of humoring his ally, he decided to say nothing and carry out the command. The big man turned around and headed out of the room. He headed down the stairs and entered the living room…

..and walked into a war zone. As he stopped and blinked, trying to figure out what was going on, a giant white but fluffy object flew into his face. He blinked again and saw Ilya, Sakura, and the funny lady who called him "Chou" engaged in a battle of epic proportions armed with pillows.

"BERSEK-I MEAN, CHOOOUUU! WE NEED YOUR HELP IN DEFEATING THE EVIL TAIGA-SAN!" Ilya yelled happily as she waved her weapon and nimbly dodged a strike from Taiga.

The hero gulped. He has witnessed enough of such events during his servitude. Berserker backed away slowly and began to tiptoe back to the staircase.

_On second thought, I think I'll go back to watching a comatose patient and his fussy lady-love. There's plenty of time to talk to Ilya later. _

As Berserker headed back up to the infirmary, he smiled to himself as he heard a cry of outrage from below.

"OW! Ilya! You can't stuff footballs in your pillow case!"

"Make me!"

* * *

A silent silhouette perched on the roof of the Emiya residence. To others, the evening was silent, peaceful, and calm. For others, the evening was a flurry mayhem of activity as the pillow fight dragged on. Yet for Lancer, it merely held tension. Gae Bolg in hand, He shifted warily in his seat, and looked into the night.

_That Tohsaka lassy is smart. I'll gie'er that. She was able ter figure out that that our connection ter the Throne of Heroes given to us by the Grail was somehow severed. If our connection with the Grail is severed, then that explains why our Noble Phantasms are weakenin'. Och. Simple logic, really. _

_What she couldn't explain was the appearance of this new …Servant or our appearance. In the Grail War, only wan servant of each class may be summoned. Yet… yer man clearly resembled both me an' Berserker. Usin' a lance in combat as well as bein' berserkerish. He was Eirei, there's no doubt about that. But why would he try to kill Shirou? More importantly, what de'ell is his weapon, Nidhogg?_

Lancer mulled over this new information. He was a hopeless hoplophile and possessed an inane affinity with all weapons.

_Hmm. I'd give the size of that thing a good ten feet, at least. Similar shape, heavy pole arm designed to crush and smash instead of thrusting. Seems to draw its power directly from the ground, since that be where the balance is centered around. Going to be a tough fight if I ever have to fight him._

_Yet another mess I be gettin' meself into. That's the last time I let Cathbar talk me into usin' his magical transport devices again. _

He looked down at Gae Bolg. Then he looked around him. A stoic silence greeted him as the blue-haired Irishman grinned to himself and allowed his mind wandered into another subject area.

_Strange thing is, we don't need to rely on masters for mana anymore. I no longer feel myself bond to someone like I used to in the previous time. When I walk, move, feel, I can feel, smell, and sense it; not as an astral entity, but like myself. I must say, it feels good to be myself again.. I swear, being an Eirei is like a dream half the time. Sometimes you're living as yourself, sometimes you're living as some epic hero thing designed to save mankind. Kind of bland, really-_

_Wait. What was that?_

A rustling in a nearby bush caught his attention. Lancer started and reached for Gae Bolg. Every muscle tensed as he nimbly flipped into a crouch.

Another rustle. Something was definitely out there. Instinctively, he hurled his spear at the bush…

…And narrowly missed impaling a small squirrel. The critter jabbered at him angrily, tossed an acorn in his direction and quickly disappeared along a nearby three.

_Just a blasted squirrel…Scared me for a moment. _

Lancer sighed and stretched. Yawning, he opened another pack of cookies. Taiga had amply supplied him with the tasty tidbits after severely reprimanding him for getting crumbs all over the couch. He smiled sourly and winced at the memory.

_That woman's scarier then all my teachers and enemies combined in the past. But she's good-natured, just like the rest of this bunch. I knew it wasn't a bad idea to come see them!_

_Although, damn! These things are good. What are these little black things embedded in them called again, chocolate? I could live on them. If I ever get the chance to return to my right time I'll be sure to sneak the recipe back. _

He decided to savor the taste as he continued his duty.

_They're like little pieces of heaven, only much easily obtained_, thought Lancer as he reached for another piece as he picked up some scattered bits of information from the magic box (Television, they call it.)

"Armed and dangerous…last sighted near Ryudo temple…Be careful and report any suspicious activities to local police force…"

Hopping on his feet, Lancer stretched as he decided to wander around. With any luck, he'll get to see this guy himself.

_Well, well. I might be getting some action tonight after all. Maybe I'll get to save a pretty young lass and receive her kiss of-_

Lancer slapped himself on the forehead.

_I'm a married man. I'm a married man. I'm a married man…_

Sighing, he sat back down and resumed his watch. In the distance, a dog howled.

_Gee. I wonder what Aife's doing…_

* * *

A tired but happy Rin dashed toward her destination with two heavy bag of books. After a long battle with the books, she found the information she was looking for.

_I thought that name was vaguely Nordic in origin…Hah. I was right. It was. Turns out I was looking in the wrong book all along! It's always the last place you look._

She was so concentrated in thought that she did not notice that she had taken a path that she did not normally walk through. Rin stopped momentarily and looked around. She remembered this place. This led to a small garden behind Shirou's house. Rin grinned and hastened her pace.

_I wonder if I should be taking this shortcut, _a bemused thought fluttered by, _whenever a heroine takes an alternate pathway, there is always, always some evil villain waiting to waylay her in those stories._

As she walked through the garden, Rin couldn't help but snicker to herself as she remembered the last time anyone tried to mug her. She was fairly sure she handled it deftly – not even the police could explain how the thief ended up in a tree gibbering about flashing lights.

_Ah, wonderful. I love the smell of summer night. It refreshes the mind and cleanses the soul. Not a fan of this metallic smelling water though…I must remind myself to not take this path again._

_Wait. Metallic?_

Rin sniffed. it was only then she realized that she was near the small grove by the edge of the garden. She inhaled again, and this time, the heavy, metallic smell was undeniably there. With a start, she realized that it could be the scent of one thing:

_Blood. _

"Verteidigungsmatrix!"

A shimmering bubble of light blinked into existence and surrounded Rin as she threw a small hexagonal jewel into the air. As the brightness illuminated her surroundings, she also realized another thing:

The trees weren't there. Or, rather, they weren't in their normal positions. Instead of standing upright, most of them were felled. A closer investigation yielded that they were smashed apart like splinters by some unknown force. Even the ground was marred by long ruts, as if some giant decided to scratch it with their fingernails. Branches and splotches of dark red littered the ground. A sanguine smell lingered in the night air.

"Wirbelwind," Rin muttered and snapped her fingers. A small globe of sparks materialized. With a hum, the magical vortex floated toward the scene. Moments later, a bright flare whistled pass as it memorized the location and prepared to deliver it to its mistress' target.

_Well, until Saber and the others get the message, it wouldn't hurt to investigate._

Stepping cautiously, Rin pulled out a fistful of gems and examined the nearest trunk. The ancient tree was mighty, but whatever attacked it cleaved it in half without much effort. She moved onto the next one, noting the same effect and on it, the small puddle of blood that was still fresh.

_It appears that whatever happened here took place only hours ago. Perhaps less._

Rin's thoughts were interrupted as the bubble of light around her suddenly faded. Surprised, she lost her balance and tripped. Cursing her luck, Rin fingered another jewel and pulled herself back up. The shield flickered back to life, bathing the area in its soft light once again. Grimacing, the mage stared disapprovingly at the blood splattered on her.

_Great. This is the part where I find a dead body, right?_

As if echoing her thoughts, the tree branches creaked and the leaves behind her rustled. Rin heard a thump behind her. She turned around warily…

And saw a tall man standing in the moonlight. The stranger was well built, and carried himself with a regal air. Auburn hair whipping in the wind, he let his crimson cloak fall away and revealed the gleaming bronze armor underneath.

"I will ask once. Give me those books you are holding."

"Who – who are you?"

"That is none of your concern. Suffice to say that I want the books."

Rin stared at the figure standing before her and studied him closely. The speaker did not seem to be threatening or overly dangerous. She also noticed that he did not carry a weapon in his hand, only a large, rounded golden shield. The shield's edges were embroidered with several repetitive patterns, but it was the engravings on the center of shield that mesmerized her. Finely sketched golden lines traces the shapes of first a group of antique warriors forming ranks, holding long cedar pikes, then the lines shifted, showing a craftsman hammering fine pieces of silver into jewelry. As the lines shifted again, it formed into a beautiful columned city, with a grand pillared temple in the center of the bustling activity, then a shoreline with high browed ships, then …

"I await your answer."

Rin hefted her bags and clutched them tighter.

"There are probably thousands of books like these from the public library. Why don't you check that out instead? It takes about five minutes to get registered and another two to find the books."

"The Grail has specifically instructed me to seek you out, Rin Tosaka," the man spoke, this time with a colder edge creeping into his voice. He raised his shield and crouched down into a more intimidating stance.

"Give them to me."

Rin's mind worked frantically as she assessed her surroundings and situation. She was standing in the middle of a recently cleared forest with large amounts of debris surrounding her. An unknown Epic Spirit is threatening her and wants the books she gathered for no apparent reason. The moonlight and her spellshield gave her limited visibility, and she knew that she had at least a few other support-classed gemstones in her possession in addition to the standard gems she carry.

However, she was not willing to fight an Epic Spirit on her own. Even the most powerful mages would hesitate, and she was a long way from being that powerful.

_Heh. Generally, as a rule of thumb in those cheap paperback novels, if someone want something that appears to be"not important", it generally serves as either a vital device or some sort of important symbol that will probably be never revealed. All the same, this only confirms the thoughts that I might have stumbled onto something useful in Otou-san's moldy library. _

_A pre-emptive strike seems to be the best way for me to get out of this mess._

Eyes narrowed, Rin concentrated and threw a small magical blast at the Eirei's face, just to test his reaction. For a brief moment, a dazzling explosion lit up the night sky. Rin took two quick steps back, heard a curious whirling sound, and instinctively ducked…

…as a large, golden rounded disk missed her head by only inches. Numbly, she realized that it was the warrior's shield. Rin blinked, and heard a crash to her left. She turned around and saw a toppled tree with its trunk smoothly severed. Humming, the shield gracefully arced back to its owner who seems to be unaffected by her blast.

_Well… that does explain the other trees…_

Rin took another step back. She knew turning tail and running wouldn't be an option since her opponent had too much reach with his shield. She fingered another pair of gemstones and threw them on the ground.

_However, there is nothing wrong with fleeing under cover…_

"Rauch Nebel!"

Twin columns of billowing black smoke rose from the ground, obscuring the woods and blotting out the moonlight. Silently congratulating herself on the idea, Rin sprinted away from the bloodstained ground. She knew the smokescreen will only last for a little while, so she had to get the most out of it.

As she rushed out of the smokescreen and into the last clump of trees on the edge of the woods, Rin heard the now recognizable humming. Perplexed, she paused and saw a golden object sweeping by. The spinning weapon clipped two trees, bounced off a third, and disappeared back into the smoke. A minute later, it flew back, marking more trees in its haphazard fashion.

Curious, Rin resumed her retreat. She had only taken one step when suddenly both trees in front of her collapsed with a mighty groan, blocking her exist with their many branches. Her assailant casually stepped out of the rapidly dissipating smoke and caught his shield like a child catching a Frisbee.

"A pity. I had hoped to spare you. But now, it appears that I have no choice but to –"

The Epic Spirit suddenly threw the shield rapidly to his left. The shield spun, hit a tree, turned a full 180 degrees around and met a metallic object to his right with a clear clang. He somersaulted in the air and skillfully grabbed his weapon, landing about two feet away from his original place as a brilliant flash of red pierced the spot.


	5. The Discus and the Philosopher

Author's note: I've actually got a lot more stuff finished...but just trying to edit them to make them good. Here's the next bit. Enjoy. :D Gotta thank a few individuals (you know who you are, including the one guy who's trying to punch me into working.

* * *

"Now just hold on for a doggone minute. Ye be knowing better then to attack harmless lassies in the dark. Mayhaps others will be standing by, but the Hound of Chulainn will not!"

Landing from the branch he was standing on, Lancer recovered his weapon from the ground, stood upright, and looked at Rin.

"Retreat, lass. This fight is not one ye be havin' chances o' winnin'"

Rin looked back, nodded, and took off in the other direction. Lancer briefly nodded back in her direction, then turned and faced his adversary. He skillfully flipped Gae Bolg in a semi-circle and signaled a gesture for "Challenge". His opponent ignored the gesture.

"…What makes you think you could win again me," the stranger roared, his voice echoing in the night. He took a step forward, shield glinting in the moonlight. "I am the Son of Peleus. My fame is known throughout history. I wield the-"

"Aw, cut ye fancy histories and dramatics and get to the point. If ye be not disclosin' yer name, then that be fine wit' me."

A brilliant flash of red followed the sentence as Lancer dashed forward and lunged at his opponent. The tip of Gae Bolg whistled through the night air as it flew toward its target…

…and missed completely. The Son of Peleus dodged his blow and began to run in Rin's direction.

"Oh, No, ye don't!" Lancer shouted as he leapt onto higher ground and lobbed Gae Bolg straight ahead. The spear carved through a tree instead as the Eirei deflected it with his shield without even slowing down.

_Feckin' Hell, if I don't get him to turn back here and fight, things could go pretty bad here. The last thing I be needing is a hostage situation!_

Lancer hefted his weapon and took a deep breath.

"Hey, OI! Coward with the face of a constipated greyhound who cannae fight like a man! Yer the sap of yer family tree! Yer mom is hiding her face in shame fer havin' ye as a son!"

The Eirei stopped and looked at him curiously.

"Worthless piece of horse manure! For a man without cows yer full of-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as the branch he was perched on was suddenly sliced clean in two by a disk-like object. Regaining his balance in midair, Lancer twirled his spear around and used it as a pole to somersault himself into a branch nearby. He could tell that his opponent was absolutely livid.

_Heh. Must have touched a nerve somewhere. _Lancer thought as he landed, feinted to the right and jabbed. His opponent merely grunted and turned the spear aside with a sweep of his shield as he smashed forward with his fist. Instinctively bringing up his spear to parry, Lancer intercepted the blow…

…and was knocked back a good five feet. As Lancer switched tactics, he swung Gae Bolg in wide arcs, forcing his opponent back. The two exchanged a few more blows as their weapons sang and clashed until another rush coupled with a few rapid stabs landed several hits on the Son of Peleus.

Lancer roared and lunged forward. Gae Bolg twisted and turned, each move designed to trip and disable its master's opposition. A particularly powerful sweep caused his opponent to stumble back as leaves were swept off trees. Seeing the opening, Lancer struck consecutively as he began to pull the powers of his Noble Phantasm into his finishing move.

"…_Beginning with a pair of small, steady strikes, and then follow up with a sweep. Purposefully leave an opening so that your opponent will seek it. See which side your opponent attacks, and feints to that side; he will think you are trying to catch him off guard and turn around, disrupting his own attack. At that moment, turn the feint into a concrete blow and lunge…"_

"_**Gae Bolg - **__**The Spear of Impaling Barbed Death!"**_

A metallic clang followed by a dazzling explosion occurred as a blinding flash of red light lit up the entire area. Lancer grinned.

_There is no way he be walking out of that alive._ He thought as he waited for the dust to settle.

* * *

Rin hurried along the narrow path back to safety, her heart pounding. She realized that whoever the unknown hero might be, he was probably too powerful for Lancer to handle along. She needed to go for help before things turned out ugly. 

A blinding flash of red light made her turn around and pause. _That must be Gae Bolg. _She thought as she fell to her knees and shielded her eyes. Even at this distance, the light was unbearably bright.

"Well, well. What have we here? If it isn't the little witch, Rin Tohsaka. Your father and I went, how do you say it, "way back" in your modern day terms."

Startled, Rin looked at the speaker. Clad in an ornate suit of gold and black, the speaker appears to be a young man of no more then twenty five. Smirking, he offered his hand to Rin.

"Would you like a hand?"

Rin took the hand gratefully; glad to see a friendly face after the night's events. However, a little voice in the back of her head told her that something about this man looked familiar. Only one individual she knew talked in that arrogant tone, used that smirk consistently, and had the bad fashion sense to dress that ostentatiously…

"Gilgamesh?"

"That is correct," replied Gilgamesh with another smirk. "Now, you are probably wholly overwhelmed by my exalted presence. But do not worry," he added, as he casually took out a small clay tablet with cuneiform on it.

"I am here to explain things and to ah, request assistance. You see..."

* * *

"...Do you know what this is, fool? Be grateful, for this is the last object you will see before I send you to Hades!" 

A shimmering shield flew out of the dust storm and narrowly missed cleaving Lancer in half. As the dust cleared, its wielder casually walked forward, catching his shield in midair.

"Take a good look, you second-rate spearman. This shield is divinely forged by Hephaestus himself. No weapon can harm it. Your cheap imitation of a divine artifact is displeasing to me."

Lancer blinked. The shield was indeed beautiful, but what irked him was that he did not even scratch it! A closer inspection at his opponent revealed neither wounds nor cuts. Sweating, Lancer brought his weapon up cautiously, not too sure of his actions. Is his opponent …invincible?

"Save your breath. You'll need it for begging. You have picked the wrong fight today. Go ahead. Hit me. I am invincible. No weapons forged of this mortal realm can harm me," the Eirei gestured as he laughed and opened his arms wide, inviting an attack.

"Gifted with invulnerability, armed with weapons fit for Gods…You have no chance of victory, CuChulainn. Move aside."

"Oh? If ye be so mighty, then why are ye still standin' ere?" Lancer snarled as he lunged and placed all of his weight on his spear. Coiling up like a loaded spring, he was ready to try one last time with another strike.

_Now or never._

Suddenly, Lancer leapt into the air and hurled his spear. The tip crackled with arcane energy as it flew towards its target.

"_**Gae Bolg - The Spear of Striking Death Flight!"**_

Laughing, the Eirei flung his shield out and met Gae Bolg head on. A deafening clang rang out as both weapons returned to their respective owners.

"Have you no ears? My shield cannot be destroyed! However, the less could be said of your weapon."

As if on cue, Gae Bolg's tip snapped, leaving a bewildered Lancer with a bare shaft. The head of the once magical spear dropped to the ground with a clank.

_Feck. This does not look good. _Thought Lancer as he backed away slowly, moonlight shining on his sweating brows. He was not afraid to die, but he did want to finish his task at hand.

* * *

"So, wait. WAIT! You are telling me that the Holy Grail, the object we were all fighting for is on some sort of a mad rampage, there are monsters and rogue heroes running amok on the streets, and your legendary weapon no longer works for because it was "sealed"?" 

Rin raised an eyebrow as she and Gilgamesh moved along the small path. She didn't exactly trust him, but she didn't think he would have lied about it either.

"You know, witch. You're de-emphasizing this whole thing. But yes... That is more or less what happened," Gilgamesh replied, wishing his argument was structured better. "I'll explain the concept of sealing later."

"On top of all this, you're telling me that all human legends are inherently interconnected with each other and each of these legends have its own "mini" parallel universes, and the Grail is trying to snuff each one out so it can gather enough power to alter the universe so that it wouldn't be destroyed?" Taking in a deep breath, Rin looked at Gilgamesh intently as he paused and tried to absorb what she said.

"No offense…But I've read fanfiction that made more sense then this c-"

Her next tangent was cut short as both of them winced from a loud clang not too far away from them. Ears ringing, Rin felt magic in the air. She also felt it disappearing …

_Lancer. _

"Come on. We need to go help him!"

* * *

A huffing Lancer ducked as the relentless shield flew at him. He dropped, rolled, and narrowly missed having his ear sliced off. The shield hummed and returned to its owner, who tossed it at Lancer again nonchalantly. 

The battle have completely turned against the Irishman. With a weapon, he was barely his opponent's equal. Without a weapon, his only option was to dodge and to flee. He snarled as he considered his options. Fleeing was no good. He had to buy Rin some time. But staying and fight…

Lancer spun to the right as the shield whizzed pass him, missing his torso by bare inches. A few seconds later he somersaulted out of the way as the shield bounced off a nearby tree and sped back. Gasping for breath, he flipped away a third time as the golden disk rushed at him yet again, this time bouncing off from a different angle.

With a beckon, his opponent caught the shield. Cape fluttering in the midnight air, he drew his weapon back in a dramatic fashion.

"Ready to give up yet?"

Lancer shook his head.

"It is your demise. Just try and dodge this."

The Son of Peleus flung his shield high up into the heavens. Lancer stared. He wasn't expecting this. He watched in morbid fascination as his opponent leaped into the heavens.

"Forged by Hephaestus…"

The barely visible aureate speck that was the shield glowed brilliantly as it begins to absorb power.

"Destined to defend…"

The shield started a rapid spin as it whirled, ready to be activated at a moment's notice.

"Used to uphold right…"

A huge pillar of light descended, lighting up the night air.

"Show the enemy your might!"

_Aw. Hell. Classic "power-up" sequence. _Lancer thought as he scrambled to find cover. Finding none, he watched the pillar intently, ready to react at a moment's notice. The next thing he knew, he had fallen flat on his back with every muscle in his body howling in torment. Felled and burned trees sprawled everywhere as the pillar of light have passed through and left a charred mark along the now silent woods. As he slowly crawled back onto his feet, wincing slightly at the damage caused, Lancer silently reminded himself that he tried his best. He leaned on the shaft of Gae Bolg and smirked.

"Well, well. Look like ye can do somethin' after all," he muttered defiantly as he lobbed the spear shaft at his opponent. He knew it wouldn't do much good, but it was an effort.

The Eirei laughed as the spear shaft struck him squarely in the chest.

"Pitiful, is this your –AAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!"

Lancer blinked. Maybe his opponent was merely fooling with him? Then he looked closely and saw that the Eirei was convulsing in agony.

"Lancer!"

Hearing his name, Lancer looked away from his opponent and saw Rin with an unfamiliar figure standing behind her. The individual appeared to be holding strands of metal chains in his hand. These chains were the cause of pain for the Eirei – the chains glowed as if they were on fire.

"Rin! Lassie, why are ye – who is that?"

"This is Gilgamesh. I'm sure you have met him before- " Rin gulped and swallowed the second half of the sentence, remembering Shirou's tale of the duo's previous meeting and results.

Clearly, Lancer remembered it well. His face darkened as he turned to Gilgamesh.

"What are ye doing 'ere anyhow? Uruk not large enough for ye to fool around wit'?"

"Well, I would really say yes, but that's beyond our conversation for now," replied Gilgamesh haughtily. "A simpleton like you could not possibly comprehend my elegant plans."

"O yah? Well, at least I have the decency to shut up, unlike yer –"

"Both of you stop it! Don't you remember there's a world in danger here? You men are all alike. When egos are in the way you guys forget about what's important!"

Rin screamed in frustration. She was getting tired, and this was going nowhere. A second later she realized that it may not have been the most effective method of conveying her thoughts, but the words have already left her mouth.

Gilgamesh paused and thought carefully, then to Rin's great surprise, he nodded.

"You're right. Now, let's see who my chains have trapped."

"He kept on callin' heself the Son of Peleus," stated Lancer evenly. "I'm afraid I cannae help ye much on fightin' though. He broke me spear."

"We'll have to take care of that later. Now, you. Come here. Tell us who you are!"

* * *

Saber was nodding off at Shirou's bedside. Her eyes felt heavy and she wanted to sleep. But a sense of responsibility prevented her from resting. To save herself from the lethargy, she got up, smoothed out her skirt and began pacing. Her mind inevitably wandering to the present subject and his condition. 

_It is good to be with Mast- ah, Shirou again. You silly girl. You thought you'd never see him again, and that's why you spilled your heart out before you left times ago. But now, you're with him, and you don't really know what to do or to say, for that matter._

_Arthuria, Arthuria, you need to brush up on your socializing skills. Standing around like a statue won't –_

"Um, Saber-chan?"

Turning her head in the direction the voice came from, Saber saw Taiga Fujimura with a suitcase in hand.

"Yes?"

Taiga smiled sheepishly. Fumbling with her suitcase, she took a small package out and handed it to her.

"Here are the keys to the house. My aunt's health have taken a turn for the worse... I'm really sorry …what with the recent events and Shirou getting mugged by thugs and all… I really feel bad about leaving you kids here by yourselves, but you know, I have to go. I've ordered plane tickets already…"

Saber smiled. Taiga was just as absentminded as usual.

"Don't worry. The house will be in good hands."

"Oh? Okay. I knew you could do it! And just in case, I've gotten some old schoolmates of mine to check up on you guys as well. So, don't worry about anything!" Taiga beamed. "I'd have to tell you guys about –"

"Uh, not to be rude, but when is your flight?"

"Oh, that," Taiga waved nonchalantly, "It's 3:15 AM."

"I see. And what time is it now?"

"It's only 2:30- EEP! Gotta run!" Howled Taiga as she ran for the door.

Saber smiled again to herself. Something never change.

* * *

"Son of Peleus? You mean you actually knew something about this? Witch, those moldy books of your father's did something…" muttered Gilgamesh as he tugged on the chain. 

"Quite. Peleus was a Greek ruler. He had an affair with the Greek nymph, Thetis. Their son was known as …" Rin paused, her eyes widening in shock.

"Achilles." The captive Eirei spoke grimly. He dived at Gilgamesh and knocked him off balance. Surprised, Gilgamesh loosened the chain, and Achilles freed himself from the entanglement, snatching Gilgamesh's little cuneiform tablet at the same time.

"That chain of heavens you've got is quite impressive, O King of Heroes," Achilles smirked. "But it'll take more then that to hold me! You see, I'm not completely divine, only partly. Your chain cannot bind me permanently!"

"Gilgamesh! Lancer! Strike at his heel! You won't make a scratch anywhere else," cried Rin. _Being a modern-day girl does have its advantages…_ She thought as she pulled into a more combative stance.

A flash of uncertainty momentarily appeared in Achilles' face, but it disappeared as soon as it was seen.

"I don't think so. There are more of you now, which makes it an unfair fight. I think I'll just use this little thing to make good my escape…"

Achilles fingered the little cuneiform tablet and a golden portal appeared beneath him. Laughing, he leaped into it and disappeared.

"Coward! Get back here!" Growled Gilgamesh as he dashed forth and entered the portal. Lancer hesitated for a moment and followed suit. The two heroes blinked out as well.

A very bewildered Rin was left standing alone in the woods.

* * *

Saber was dreaming. She dreamt that she have taken Shirou to visit Camelot. How Lancelot would laugh heartily, clap him on the back and teach him a few new jousting tricks. How Gawain would take them hunting, and Bediviere would write, and - 

The ringing of a doorbell brought Saber out from her sweet reverie. Muttering in a discontented manner, she ignored it and tried to go back to dreaming. It didn't quite work. The door kept on ringing. Finally, with an exasperated sigh, she went to the door.

"It is four in the morning. Is there something you need?"

From the keyhole came a lilting voice.

"Good morning! And yes. First of all, Miss Arturia; it is exceedingly improper of you to keep a gentleman waiting out in the cold and mist at "four o'clock in the morning". Secondly, I believe I can be of great assistance to-"

"How do you know my real name…?"

"Tsk! I will answer your question, and many more after that. For you see, I am also here to offer my assistance to whoever that may be interested in maintaining and preserving this world for the common good! Now would you please let me in before this bloody cold gets to an old man's bones? Beastly weather you folks have here, by the way."

The speaker had a little British accent that it took a while for Saber to comprehend because he was speaking rapidly. Curious, Saber opened the door and peered out. Standing before her was a lanky, middle-aged fellow who looked like he stepped out from Oxford University in the 1600s. Midnight black colored jacket and suit complimented his features, which were sharp and angular. Though not ancient, there are a few lines around his hazel eyes. A small ponytail bobbed happily as the stranger took off his top hat and offered his hand to Saber.

"It's an honor to finally meet you. I am Locke. John Locke." Locke thoughtfully paused, as if to let it sink in.

"You may call me Mr. Locke, Professor Locke, or simply "Professor" would also suffice. I would prefer that you not use my first name until we have been better acquainted, and you may cut the whole bloody "sir this" and "sir that stuff". I really don't appreciate titles. And I hope you've lodging for a few more. You see, I've brought some friends as well."

Saber gaped. Was this the legendary philosopher …

"Well? Miss Arturia. Are you going to let me in or am I going to have to stand out here in the cold for the whole night?"

* * *

Rin sighed as she considered her options. She could enter the portal and follow them, but not knowing exactly where it would take her, it did her no good. Gilgamesh has explained that it was a Waystone, something he used to travel between these parallel words. At the same time, however, she was itching for some adventures of her own. She stood up, brushed a few leaves off her hair and began watching the sun rise. 

_Forget sleeping, this is more interesting then watching Ilya and Saber bicker over the last filet mignon. It is at this time I wished I had some advice…If only father or even Shirou was here… Should I follow them?_

A little voice in the back of her head told her that she should probably head back and let Saber or Berserker handle it.

_Maybe you're right. _Sighing, Rin put away the thought of adventure and started moving toward the direction of the Emiya residence. She had barely walked ten steps when she heard rustling behind her on a nearby (not destroyed in the previous battle) tree. Highly vexed, Rin brought up her pace.

"Whichever OTHER Eirei slash Monster slash thug slash hero thing, PLEASE COME OUT NOW. I am not in the mood for you to be sneaky!"

"My, my. Such temper, Rin. Even with all those leaves in your hair, you haven't changed a bit."

Rin's heart skipped a beat. She had always dreamt of hearing that voice again. She turned around …

…and saw a familiar, leanly muscled figure. His spiky white hair stood in the dawn as the sun gradually rose from behind him. The metallic patterns on his black militaristic bodysuit glinted in the sunlight as crimson trenchcoat fluttered in the morning breeze.

"…Archer?!"

"The one and only," Archer grinned. "Would I be standing in front of you if I was?"

Mouth slightly dry, Rin forced her lips into a slightly shaky smile.

"You're late, you know? Even Gilgamesh beat you to Fuyuki."

"Of course. But hey, there's a Waystone Warp in front of us. Shall we enter and see where it leads us?" Amused, Archer smirked as he relaxed and extended his hand to Rin as his expression changed.

"Come on, it'll be just like the old times…me fighting with you at my side."

Choking with emotion, Rin took the hand before pulling Archer to her and hugging him tightly. She couldn't find a single word to say to him, but the look on her face told enough. Gently wiping away a tear from her cheek, Archer clasped her as the sun cleared the last vestiges of the night mist.


	6. The Tabula Rasa's choice

"Alright," Saber whispered as she opened the door. "I do not know who you are, but come in. Please be silent – the others are sleeping."

Locke amiably took a small step, took off his black hat, dropped it onto a nearby stack of shoeboxes and entered the Emiya residence. His ponytail bobbed excitedly as he thoughtlessly dusted a bit of nonexistent chalk off his shoulder.

"Now, Miss Arturia, to business. Have you a comfortable place to sit? I fear I'll be talking for quite a bit of time."

Saber pointed to the living room, where the climatic carnage of the previous night's pillow-battling took place.

"Ah, splendid," grinned Locke as he eagerly plopped down on the nearest cushion and beckoned with one gloved hand. "Please sit down. No need to be so formal and stiff.

Anyways. To explain why or who I am. I've already addressed the who part, I think. Have you any questions on my identity? If so, you can hold onto them for now; there will be plenty of time to ask them afterwards."

Locke thoughtfully paused for a moment, as if contemplating some deep secret. He smiled and took out a small white piece of stone from his coat pocket. Tapping it with his index finger twice, the flat object began humming and whirling as if powered by arcane energy.

"Here, perhaps this will help me extrapolate."

The tablet soon grew to twice, then four times, then a hundred times its original size as it expanded and became a gigantic blotch of black. Upon closer examination, however, it merely appeared to be one blotch – the blackness was caused by countless symbols, writings, fragments, all blending into one chaotically packaged map or timeline of some sort. With a small nod, Locke snapped his fingers as the tablet suddenly sprang into vertical motion as various parts of the surface alternated between fading to a blank state and a dark, jumbled mess of scribbles. Staring at the thing made Saber's head spin.

"What is this?" Saber asked, not knowing anything more intelligent to say.

"Oh, this? This is my notesheet. Of course, to individuals like you it would be considered an artifact of great power," explained Locke.

"You may refer to it as whatever you wish. Rock, tablet, timeline and existence of all aspects of the world, Professor John Locke's undecipherable handwriting – Locke paused here for a moment, as if he was waiting for it to sink into the head of his listener. When Saber gave him a confused look, he gave a little sigh and tapped the nearest surface. Immediately, the boardlike object wiped itself, giving it a clear, pristine appearance.

"This is the Tabula Rasa. The "Blank slate" is the more modern reference. As for me, I use it to record the events of the world.

As you know, events have rapidly spun out of control. Here's the explanation. Don't ask me how I reached its conclusion, but sufficient to say I've my reasons. You have noticed that there is a great deal more arcane energy in the world, and you have also noticed that many mythological beings have returned to this plane of existence, correct? Actually, hold that thought; you yourself are a part of that group. During the previous grail war you have already "fulfilled" your purpose and "destroyed" the Holy Grail, so you should no longer even be existent in this world, correct?"

Saber nodded. This was a part that she didn't understand either. _I was asleep, I think._ She thought as she listened intently to this mysterious individual._And then I woke up, and I was …myself again. A voice told me that all I had to do was follow, and I will be able to see the continuation of my dream again. _

"Exactly. Your purpose as a Servant should be at an end, and all evidence and logic would point to this; yet are here. This means that your Point of Influence isn't dormant. Do you know why?"

"Point of influence?"

"Ah, excuse me. I have forgotten that you may not see things on the same level as I do. Here, this might make a bit more sense."

Locke gestured to the Tabula Rasa as it spread itself out thinner and thinner. It was now twice as thick as a scarf, but many times longer. Pinpricks of light appeared on the coiling tapestry-like object as the venerable scholar continued.

"The Tabula Rasa is indeed my notepad, for it records all points of human achievement. Archived in this little thing are human legends, dreams, emotions, ideals, values, and a host of all those other small events. In short, this is a written documentary of our reality, time, and space. Each point of light present on this tablet, called a Point of Influence is essentially one event or story that has been recorded in its own world. Go ahead. Pick one and touch it. It'll show you what has happened before."

Hesitantly, Saber edged her hand to the surface of the Tabula Rasa. Her long fingers touched one of the many winking lights…

…and immediately, she was plunged into another world, one that she thought she would never see again. Saber watched an old, bent man led a younger one to an ancient altar. From a distance, the two looked alike; both were dressed in earthy colors - the old man with the battered pointy hat and the youngster's simple outfit was reflective of their station. They appeared to be freedmen.

Or was it that simple? Saber stared as the two individuals in front of her walked through her without so much as of a notice. All was quiet. There was little to be seen by the dim light of the twelve flickering candles within the church except for an enormous boulder. A glitter came from the top of the altar. The two figures approached it.

"My young friend, what do you see?" The old man asked, his hoarse voice echoing within the churchyard.

"I … see nothing. There is a blade embedded within the stone yonder. Merlin. Why are we here," the other voice replied. "There are yet many matters for us to attend to. Shall we leave?"

"My young friend; read the inscribed writing upon the altar."

Merlin gestured toward the altar. As if on cue, Saber found herself to be suddenly next to the pair as the younger figure dropped to her knees and carefully read the carved letters upon the great mass.

"…I cannot, Merlin. The writings have faded with age. Only the last bit is legible, and that is …_REX QVONDAM REXQVE FVTVRVS …?" _

"Do you know what it means, Arturia?"

Seeing Arturia shaking her head, Merlin smiled. The smile was benevolent, yet a flash of sorrow passed the old sorcerer's eyes, as if he knew something the young woman didn't know. His voice rung in the hollow chapel as he uttered the same words that Saber herself heard once, a long time ago.

"_REX QVONDAM REXQVE FVTVRVS - _The Once and Future King."

* * *

Gasping, Saber pulled away as the vision receded away. She was once again in the living room of the Emiya residence. Regarding Locke with newfound respect, she eyed the Tabula Rasa warily as she regained her composure. 

"And of course, I will assume now that you will ask me the classical question: "what does it all mean?" To answer that, I have only an analogy. Let's put it this way. What you see here is a pictorial representation of the world and all its events. The reality, if you would call it."

Locke gestured as the Tabula Rasa suddenly flattened itself out and became a flat whiteboard. The words "Pictorial representation of the world" appeared in large black bold letters.

"First of all, you need to be aware of your own importance and existance. Each of you, the Eirei or "Noble Spirits" is a critical aspect to maintaining the reality of the world. Your respective legends, myths and deeds help build to foundations of human history. As the fabric of reality is merged, you are brought to "life," literally. The boundaries between your legend world and this, the "connecting thread" world has been broken. You are really here. This is not like the Grail War, where you cannot be harmed permanently. This is you, being here. You as in the real "you."

Now, here's what's happening. I am here because various events have thrown the balance into turmoil. Legends are appearing back into reality. The Tablet of Heroes has been shattered. All because of the Grail - "

"The Grail? I destroyed the Grail, together with Shiro during that summer - " Saber interrupted. This man was telling her things that should be impossible. The Grail was destroyed. That's why she didn't get her wish and had to fade away! Or did she have a wish to begin with? Either way, it isn't possible. The Grail is destroyed. It will remain destroyed. Surely –

"Miss Arturia. You may stop gaping like your lover would in this situation now. It is somewhat embarrassing to behold," an amused Locke pointed out to her.

"Besides, remember that all that transgresses within the human mind is known to me. So naturally, yes. I am aware of the fact that you seemed to have destroyed the Grail. Indeed, though the Grail is a powerful artifact, only something equally as powerful, such as Excalibur is capable of vanquishing it. In theory."

"In Theory?"

"Yes. Only in theory. You see, the Grail's power is to grant any wish that is physically manifestable; therefore, when you and Mr. Emiya wished for its destruction, you can say its fail-safe mechanism kicked in. It overrode the wish and made one itself – an unlikely task, seeing that the original creators of the Grail would never have intended for anyone to destroy it."

"Here's how the idea works. The Grail is a collective "wish-machine," if you would like to call it that. Its sole purpose is to grant individual wishes – their heart's desires in order to further humanity. Originally, the Grail is hidden and quests were given to worthy individuals from all over the globe in order to obtain it. You should know, being a chivalrous king yourself. Have you sent knights out in search of the Holy Grail?"

Saber nodded.

"Then yes, see? You understand what I mean. First and foremost, the Grail is not a totally evil entity – until its corruption, which we will get to later on. For now, it is sufficient for you and the rest to know that it is merely a powerful artifact that is ruled wholly by logic. In other words, and ah…hold on. Let me write this stuff down. I have a tendency to digress to other matters."

Pausing here for a moment, Locke waved his hands. Bulleted points appeared on the Tabula Rasa as he sipped a cup of tea that apparated. He looked rather pleased with himself, like an old man doting on a favorite student.

"Now, where was I?"

"The fail-safe mechanism on the Grail - "

"Ah! Right, right. Pardon me. Anyways, the fail-safe. Should anyone wishes to destroy the Grail who is not under direct command by the Creator or the Keeper of the Grail, the Grail is then allowed to act freely in order to preserve itself. Normally, it would just disappear in a blinding flash of light, not to be seen for another hundred or so years. However, in your case… because it was corrupted, the Grail gained a sentience. This sentience selected the most obvious method of self-preservation: eliminating the threats. In other words, you, the other Eirei, and anything associated with them."

"Please hold. How is it doing that? And more importantly, why?"

"Good question! Good question. First, and this is completely theorizing on my part, is that the Grail moved itself away, as it is designed to do. However, afterwards, it decided to use its own wish-granting powers to its own end, namely by creating things in service to itself in order to remove you. The logic here is simple. If the source to its destruction is removed, then it is fulfilling its purpose of being a wish-granting object."

"Now, you're probably wondering why it didn't just wish you all out of existence, right? Well, first of all, it probably can't do that. Secondly, it is illogical for it to wish away something that's already there. Since I didn't design the Grail, I can't exactly say how it works. So, all it has to do is to wipe all of your records from history, which is what the Tabula Rasa's Points of Influences record and it will be safe."

"Basically, by manipulating events within legends, the Grail can wipe out these Points of Influences, essentially removing parts of history. Now, this is extremely dangerous, as you could probably tell. If, say the first Emperor of China never unified the land, or if the Ragnarok Cycle never came to pass, then the world's stability is at stake. If heroes such as you are removed from reality, what do you think will happen?"

The Tabula Rasa paused in its notetaking and hastily scribbled "REALLY, REALLY BAD THINGS" along the margins of the board.

"Ah … I wish it wasn't so obvious at times. Anyways, you may think of this as a chess game or something similar. As the Grail erases legends by defeating the heroes within their own respective realms, it takes another step towards "safety." Do you see the danger now?"

"No…Yes. Hold on. I understand. The fact is, the Grail will not be sure which legends to wipe, seeing that we all have the potential of being in the Grail war, and therefore we all have the opportunity to destroy it. This means…" Saber's eyes widened in shock as she realized the magnitude of the philosopher's words.

"It will … try to systematically destroy each and every one of us until it is "safe." But that would mean that history would no longer …exist."

"I like your word choice there, Miss Arturia. Systematic. Yes. Very systematic, very correct. Now, despite the fact that the logic is clearly flawed from our end – if humanity is destroyed, then there will be no one for it to grant wishes upon, the Grail is still carrying forth its plan. It has swayed many Eirei already on its half with promises of things dearest to their own hearts.

The fact that familiar faces are gathered around this area is no mere coincidence! I selected you and the others because of your various merits and abilities. Now, you have a choice. You can choose to dismiss all this as the ramble of an old man, and I will return you back to your own realm and time with no repercussions or you may heed my words, in which I will send you off to your first task. The choice is yours."

"I am not sure if I can take on the task, if what you say is so great and dire," Saber answered slowly, carefully selecting each word. A look of sorrow briefly passed over Locke's face as he pursed his lips and began his court reply.

"Then I understand. I shall take my leave now." Sighing, he reached for the Tabula Rasa as his ponytail sadly waved behind him.

"Good day to you, Miss - "

"Hold."

The simple command made the philosopher pause as he turned and looked at the young woman in the blue dress curiously.

"Though I am aware of the dangers and the risks, I have this to say. The duty of a knight is first and foremost to protect those whom he or she holds dear. Therefore, I cannot abandon such a task."

Saber nodded, a steely glint in her green eyes. Behind the small frame a regal presence radiated from her inner being as her next words made Locke smile. _She was indeed the lioness daughter of a king, Arturia Pendragon,_ he thought as he mouthed the ancient vow of the Knights of the Round he knew she was about to utter.

"Instruct me. By the Table Round, my life and blade is at your command."

"NO. SABER. WAIT!"

Both Saber and Locke turned in surprise at the hoarse shout of this new intruder. Hanging on the stairwell with bandages all over his body was Shiro Emiya. His red hair matted and untidy, he balanced himself precariously as he took a wobbly step forward.

"Mr. Emiya! May I ask why?"

"I heard what you said, at the beginning, when, you said that the Servants are all physically in existence," Shiro huffed. His injuries were severely hampering his ability to talk continuously.

"If I'm getting, it right, Saber can be hurt, she could even die, and I don't want her, to take, that risk."

"Shiro, we've already discussed this matter and that I am fully capable of taking care of myself - "

"Mr. Emiya, Miss Arturia is correct. She has been the monarch of England for - "

"I don't CARE if she was the king of England, I won't risk the chance of her being gone again!"

Shiro fell to his knees, perhaps due to exhaustion or emotions within. Face contorted, he angrily shouted out.

"I was stupid. I was stupid once. I let the only one whom I truly loved fade away. Do you understand? I love her. I love her with all my heart and soul. Do you know what I felt like when I watched her being … gone? Do you know what it was like to see her hurt, hurt so bad that we didn't know what to do? Do you know how much I missed her? You don't! Do you know what I would give to make her happy, to make her safe?"

"And now, now. When I finally get to see her, you want to pull her away again. She may not walk out of wherever you send her alive. Do you know that? I won't let her fade away again. I won't let you take her away from me!"

The room was silent except for Shiro's jagged breathing. Locke was visibly uncomfortable as he opened his mouth to begin speaking, but then closed it again. The Tabula Rasa stopped in mid-scribble, its display now reading "…"

No one knows what Saber is thinking, as whatever emotion she may have shown was carefully hidden behind a well-used mask. Her green eyes wandered to the erratic philosopher, then to the boy who just professed his love for her in front of everyone. Still, she could not hide the tenderness and her feeling completely as she smoothed out her dress and began to speak.

"Shiro…I…"

"Well, well. I see your brain is probably still addled after that fight Rin told me about. Master of Heroics, I suppose you'll go out and fight in her stead?"

Everyone turned to the doorway to see a familiar pair in red and black. Rin and Archer walked slowly into the room as Archer's red cloak fanned out behind them. Hefting Rin's bookbag with one hand and clasping her hand with the other, the sarcastic Servant's eyes momentarily lit up as he saw Locke.

"Eth-" he began, but a flashing glare from Locke immediately silenced him. "Ah. Locke? It's been a long time since we both walked this land, isn't it?"

"Correct. I assume that you have told your lady-friend here everything that we've deducted?"

"Yes. Hold on for a moment while I knock some sense into this hero-wannabe here. Shiro, can you walk?"

Shirou nodded.

"Good. Come with me. We need to talk."

Numbly, the red-haired engineer followed Archer up the staircase and into a small chamber.

* * *

"Mm. Hopefully my friend there will be able to explain things better than I can. And now, onto the actual plan. Miss Tohsaka, I assume that your former Servant told you what was needed?" 

"That is correct," Rin spoke, a smile coming onto her visage. "Just one small thing: how do you plan on having us save the world?"

Locke smirked and held out his hand. A small stone tablet, a miniature version of the Tabula Rasa nestled within his palm.

"With these. Ah! Sunrise, early in the morning… Perfect time to begin another lecture. Would you be so kind as to rouse the others? I believe this is another matter of great importance."

The earliest rays of the sun pierced away the colors of the night as it illuminated the chamber of the Eirei and boy. Shiro eyed Archer warily. He didn't think Archer was going to be any danger to him, especially when Rin and Saber are still around, but he wasn't too sure exactly what the "talk" involved. The angular features of the Servant seemed especially caustic as the older man glared at him back, neither saying a word for a long time.

"Well?" It was Archer who first broke the silence. "Is there any logical reason as to why you didn't want Saber to go out there and fight? You heard, uh, Locke explain things. Would someone as insane as him really tell you a lie?"

Shiro had no answer. Seeing his younger counterpart lapse into thoughtful silence, Archer launched another question.

"You do realize, that it's not merely your relationship at stake here, right?"

The barb within the question was evident as Shiro winced. He could tell Archer's question beneath it. _"Is your love for Saber stronger than your love for Justice itself?"_

"I…I…" The answer was difficult. On one hand, Shiro's inane sense of justice has always prevailed over his personal self. Widely regarded as one of the most helpful individuals known in his town, even Rin had to grudgingly admit that he was handy to have around when there's work to be done.

And yet…yet. Saber. Saber…

"You know, kid. I wasn't really expecting an answer. I know we aren't on friendly terms, but do listen to me. It'll save you a lot of pain and heartache in the long run. You gotta learn to take risks."

Archer paused here and adjusted his red cloak as he settled into a more comfortable position into the chair he previously commandeered.

"Kid, I was once like you. Idealistic, full of big plans. Always willing to pull one for the greater good. As I grew up, I realized that it's impossible to save everyone. Then I settled on trying to save the people I knew and cared for. That didn't work out either. I ended up making a bargain that I've never intended to make. Last time around, I tried to erase the past, but I've learned something that's a lot more important."

"What's that?"

Slowly, Archer reached into his jacket and pulled out a small locket. Its crystalline surface emanated a bright ruby red in the sunlight as he stood up and held it high for Shiro to see.

"In order to protect those whom you love the most, you must have faith in them first and foremost. Sometimes you need to believe and just let them go do their thing. I learned this during the last Grail War. See this locket? I carried it around with me – to symbolize mine," pausing here carefully, Archer gazed into Shiro's eyes for a moment. Nodding, as if satisfied with what he saw, he continued.

"-and her sacrifice. What's done was needed. And in the end, it was worth it."

With these words, Archer turned around and pocketed the gem. Cloak swishing, he walked out of the room, leaving a very confused Shiro behind.

"Just promise me to think about it."

_Funny. I can almost hear his brain furiously working away at this new information presented. Hopefully he'll figure it out in a year. _Archer mused as he turned downstairs and hear other footsteps near him. _The others must be gathering. _

"Wait. Archer, just who are you?"

* * *

"Excellent. Is everyone here? Good, good. Now, gather around and listen to me closely. The little tablet things I have in my hand are called "Nodal Fragments." They are, essentially, reality preservation devices. Just as a node is a point on a network, so are these fragments point on reality itself. I have a limited number of these, so we'll be selectively picking out certain Points of Influence upon this timeline here. You can use the Waystone system I've set up to traverse time where you'll be whisked away into the legend's own dimension. Once there, the Fragment'll give you instructions on how to preserve the piece. It could be as simple as completing the legend or going to a specific location. Once you're there at the right location, the tablet will activate and a piece of the legend will be preserved within it. Thus, you are able to -" 

"Woah, woah. Wait. Slow down," squeaked Ilya. She was comfortably perched on Berserker's shoulders as she listened intently. "So these are essentially large stockpiles of mana, creating an image of that reality?"

"…Sorry. Did I go too fast? Anyways. Yes. To answer your question, Miss Einzebern. That's basically how it works. However, seeing that I've never had to use these, I fear that even I may not be sure of how they will work specifically in each scenario. But rest assured, they are completely functional. Essentially, what I hope to eventually do is to stockpile enough of these to power another artifact to confront the Grail itself. That detail'll be revealed when it is necessary, so I doubt it's enough use to give you information on that. It is sufficient to say that it's in another dimension."

"Sounds good…too good. Magus. What is the drawback of using these objects?" Berserker rumbled. He was eager to return to his own homeland and confront the problems there.

"Drawback? Good question. Good question! Now, here's the other bit. Should you fail in your encounters for whatever reason, you'll be erased from reality. Permanently. There will be no way to bring you back, short of direct divine intervention, which I do not think is possible. In other words, be cautious. I cannot say if any of you will have a direct influence on what will happen, but let us not risk that, mm?

Anyways. This brings us to our interesting choices. Despite the fact that there are literally millions of different legends, mythos and points for us to preserve, you must make the choice of where to go. I claim no superiority when comparing these Points of Influence – all of them are equally significant. However, since our goal is not to interfere with history, but to preserve it, it is logical I think to start with these three points. For your purposes, the geological regions are Mesopotamia, Scandinavia, and England. It may be wise for us to focus on Mesopotamia and England first, as these are locations that the Grail have already moved against and is even now on the verge of destruction. Simply put. If the Grail can wipe these areas before we get to them, then it has already succeeded in its task – even if only partially. Would anyone disagree with my suggested course of action?"

Pointing to the Tabula Rasa, Locke identified three clusters of points. Hearing no voices of contention, he sighed in relief. Perhaps the world has a chance after all.

"I apologize for being wordy, redundant, and speaking too rapidly for comprehension. Truly, time is of the essence. Are there any questions, comments, or rude remarks at this point before we embark on our respective journeys?"

"Question. How much of our …meanderings will modify our world as of now?"

"To answer that, Miss Tohsaka, very little if I can help it. I guarantee nothing, however."

"Question. Why us? For that matter, how did we get here?"

"Hercules. I'll explain things in due time. For now, if I may borrow a modern-English phrase, "things are way out of "whack"," it would be an accurate term to describe it. You could say that you are selected. In fact, if you would like to think of yourself as one of those popular heroic archetypes so often discussed in classic literature –"

The Tabula Rasa made a ticking noise, as if annoyed by Locke's explanations.

"Great Scott. Alright. I'll send them!" Turning around to face the rest, Locke patted the artifact sheepishly.

"I apologize. Here. Let us begin on our quest. Archer. I need you to take Rin and go after CuChulainn, whom you know as Lancer. I believe he dashed after Achilles and is now currently in the Mesopotamia Point. Ilya, take your friend and your giant and stick around here. There's something you need to accomplish in our present time. Saber, you –"

"I shall return to Camelot. I have a promise to keep." The armor-clad knight replied. Excalibur hung by her sheath like a watchman ready for duty.

"Excellent. I shall commence the spell to activate the Waystones. Good luck. And, as clichéd as this will sound, as I'm sure you've hear it many times. The fate of the universe rest on your –"

A loud bleeping noise emitted from the Tabula Rasa. Seeing its reaction, Locke hastily chanted a few lines as a golden portal opened on the floor. Stepping into the portal with Rin by his side, Archer snickered.

"Rude remark, old friend. You could be a little less verbose like your battery-powered alarm-clock-calendar-map thing here."

"I am well aware of my flaws, old friend. Now, hurry."

With a nod of assurance, and a smile from Rin, the pair dissipated into the glow.

"Alright. Now, Miss Arturia…Are you ready?"

"I am."

"Hold it!"

The remaining heads turned to see Shiro walking into the room.

"Shiro... You're no longer my master, but I still have feelings for you as Shiro. I – you, I. You must understand –" Saber's voice contained a hint of frustration as she tried to figure out something to say to her former master. _By the mists_! She thought. _How piteous is vocabulary when we truly need it to make meanings clear!_

Shiro extended his hand, still bandaged from his previous battle. He shook his head as Saber gasped, realizing his intent.

"I'm not here to stop you. But! You aren't going anywhere…not without me!"

An exchange of eye contact was all the communication the pair needed. There was earnestness and urgency in Shiro's voice as he spoke.

"I'm going with you. To save your homeland, to save the world. To be true to my own ideals and be true to you at the same time. Saber. Someone very wise told me that, that we need to have faith. I do have faith – faith in your ability to succeed, and faith in my own reasoning. That's why I'm here! Saber! You will never fight alone!"

"Shiro, I …" Saber paused as her arm flickered over her face momentarily as her posture changed. Slowly, she reached forward and clasped his hand. Turning around to face John Locke, the enigmatic being who was responsible for all these events, she whispered in a voice too soft to be heard.

"Let us return to Camelot."


	7. The Rubicon

Author's notes: Apologies for lack of updates.My formating's messy because of my Chinese version of MS word. This chapter is substantially darker. And after reading a few of the most excellent pieces of fanfiction I've seen, I felt the urge to write a bit more. (This one's a tad bit long). Extra-special thank yous go to Yuurei-san who remains the most awesome peer editor anyone can ever ask for. Thank you for reading. You have no idea how much the clicks warm a poor student's heart.  
Ok. That was cheesy AND BAD. Anyways...

If you've any questions, comments, or rude remarks feel free to leave them in the Review and/or E-mail. I'll be answering them periodically in "John Locke's Corner," or basically in-character explanations from my little Ex Deux Machina.

P.S. Kudos goes to whoever figures out my poor imitation and reference to a very excellent English author. All copyrighted characters belong to their respective owners.

* * *

_I see…absolutely nothing._

Shiro blinked. He realized that he was immersed in darkness, probably in a cave of some sort. As his eyes adjusted to the shadows, he began to make out details – stalactites hanging off the low ceilings and smooth, gray stone biers on the floor as the cavern were illuminated by a single source. Excalibur glowed with a comforting aura as Saber stepped next to him, a somber expression on her petite face.

"This is the sepulcher Karste. My final resting place. Supposedly the isle of Avalon was accessed from here."

"So…we're in your …grave?" Ask Shiro hesitantly, not sure what to say.

"Correct. Maste-" Saber's visage lightened up for a brief moment as she corrected herself mid-sentence. "-Shiro. I was laid to rest here after my spirit made its final pact during the battle of Camlann."

Holding Excalibur out in front of her, Saber trotted ahead, with Shiro in tow.

"The cave itself holds many secrets – all the great legends of Britain are laid to rest here. We're in what is considered by many to be holy grounds. Tread carefully, and please touch nothing. We seek the path to the living world and not the fey one."

Shiro rapidly withdrew his hand from a nearby skull.

"So…Uh. Saber. What's your homeland, uh. Like?"

"You will see for yourself," Saber replied, leaning on her sword for a moment as she paused. Her eyes shone with excitement, an emotion not usually displayed outward.

"Britain is truly beautiful. The forests are luxuriant and filled with all sorts of animals. The river Avalon runs through the city, and Camelot is perched upon a mountain. In summer, as we are now, fireflies dot the skies as Avalon sparkles under the moonlight. Shadows dance and laugh as you see the glowing spots of heath-fires within each house. It is a marvelous realm blessed by God…"

"Huh. Well, we're here now so I'm sure I'll get to see." Shiro attempted to respond. He was going to say more about things, but he then realized how serious he sounded and stopped himself.

_Dammit. I have to learn some smooth-talking from Ilya next time… _

"Indeed."

The pair continued their journey in silence, each thinking their personal thoughts as the shadows seemed to weave behind them.

* * *

Across time in a separate plane of existence another pair was engaged in heated argument in the middle of the desert. 

"Archer, dear. I don't CARE if you had Counter-Guardian training or whatever. You don't understand where we're going. If we're in this desert of whatever here, then we should be heading EAST instead of west. In which direction are we going now? WEST!"

Archer signed as he adjusted the straps on his pack. Rin had brought significantly large amounts of "supplies" for the trip. _Which of course, included the tomes from her father's precious collection._ _Heavens know why she has these things._

"Rin, where are you getting this information from? That dusty old map tucked in the "History of Mesopotamia?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I figured since we're entering portions of history we might as well come prepared. Oh, don't give me that look! We've been trekking in the sands for four hour now. Give me a break!"

"Rin, but weren't you the one who said you knew where we were going –"

_Risking Rin's anger in the middle of nowhere would probably be counter-intuitive,_ Archer thought nonchalantly as he swallowed.

"C'mon. Let's go. We need to get to Goldy's place."

_This may not be a good time to tell her that she's holding the map upside down._

* * *

The winding path of the cave seemed to be endless as Shiro followed his former Servant in the dark, guided by a single light. He didn't quite mind, as she has been telling him of her knights and their various stories, which were entertaining to listen to. As they moved closer to the entrance, he noticed a change in Saber's behavior. She paused more often, as if unsure of herself. Worry crept into her eyes as she would occasionally look around, as if to make sure he was still there. 

"Saber? What's the matter?"

"Something is amiss. We are close to the mouth of the cave. Normally, the smell of pines is heavy around here, as the mouth of Karste is heavily forested. At this point, the guardsmen and caretakers normally stationed around here would have stopped us by now… Something is amiss."

Repeating herself, Saber muttered as her steps hastened. She turned sharply around a corner as Shiro struggled to keep up.

"Saber, wait up, you're moving too fast. Maybe the men are just asleep or something."

"Impossible. Finest troops of the kingdom are stationed here. The commandeering officer is top among the peers of the round table. Her men are nothing but punctual. I can sense it; something's gone horribly wrong."

Saber was running. Thinking of something to say to ease her anxiety, Shiro ran after her. He wasn't sure what he could say, but he was going to make an effort. Unfortunately, he needed to catch up first. Grueling minutes passed as the pair rushed through the rest of the catacombs. Shiro was a decent sprinter, but he wasn't quite as agile as Saber. The pair's footsteps echoed in the tunnel as shadows danced grotesquely on the stones behind them.

A pair of heavy doors loomed before the Eirei and her follower. The inlaid ivory patterns were stained dark and barely discernable. Had Saber not stopped in front of it, Shiro would have run past it without second thought. The gates of the guardroom stood silently as Saber pushed it open. Hinges creaking, the room was dark. An unpleasant smell of mustiness and decay followed. Brushing dust off a torch lying on a nearby crate, Shiro lit it as he followed Saber inside.

The room was covered with a thick layer of dust. It seemed to have been abandoned for quite a while. A fleeting moment of fear passed over Saber's face after she methodically examined every chamber, and found all empty.

"Strange," she murmured to herself. Shiro gently placed his hand on her shoulder as he placed the torch within a holster.

"It's ok. Saber. I'm sure it'll all work out. Your knights probably had good reasons for not being here! They could be out! Or …taking a trip!" Desperately wracking his brain for something comforting to say, Shiro babbled.

"Or, wait! They could just be dead or something."

Saber shook her head and said nothing as she headed to the antechamber. Tapping a brick on the wall, a compartment slid open as a piece of parchment fell onto the ground. Carefully picking it up, she gave a little smile of relief.

"Here it is. This is a cache. In the event of a journey or a mission of some sort, the officer in charge will leave instructions for the replacement – or in this case, us. I knew they wouldn't have left us without word or message."

Shiro peered over Saber's shoulder. The parchment was dog-eared and certainly seen better days, despite its recent discovery. The handwriting was graceful and flowing, but it was uneven in places. They began reading it with furrowed brows.

_July 26__th__. Year 58. _

_I, Bedivere, Knight-Warrior of the Round Table leave this in writing, to whomever may it concern. I swear upon my sword that what contains below is of the whole truth, else damn me to eternal dishonor._

_A tactical withdraw was ordered as we were forced to abandon our posts and were instructed to return to Camelot immediately. All available hands were to report to Camelot immediately, for the situation was dire. Mordred, after having been slain by our beloved king, Arthur was once again seen, but at the head of a great army. Rumors float that shadow-creatures walk amongst them, and that they wield terrible blades of pure darkness, piercing a man in half without second thought. Steel holds no defenses. Arrows merely glance off them. Fire is the only thing that they seem to be afraid of, and forged iron does seem to injure them. Yet… they were supposedly invulnerable!_

_We had originally dismissed it as rumors if it was not for the fact that we encountered these "shadow creatures" ourselves. Three days ago the garrison was attacked by mysterious forces of darkness. They were man-like in shape, but had the strength of ten and vitality of a hundred. There were seventeen of them in total. Our strength of fifty knight errant, three hundred and fifty men-at-arms was severely depleted. Out of the knights, only I and eight others survive. All of us with light to serious wounds. The creatures leave no corpses and merely vanish. Strangely enough, they seemed to be eager to rush into the crypt, but some mysterious green aura prevents them from doing so. _

_Regardless, morale is low. I have dismissed the others and instructed them to return to their various estates.I ride alone. Bitter, because I bring no assistance to Camelot beside myself. It is stated within legend that our King would have returned to assist us and banish the darkness. I still believe – I have seen our liege with my own eyes. But the darkness is strong, and my faith is wavering. _

_War is upon us. _

_Undersigned, Bedivere of Cromwell. _

"Huh. This isn't good, is it? How far away is Camelot?"

"Eight hour's ride, or a day on foot if we can manage. Shiro. We're going."

Saber crumpled the paper as she clutched her sword tightly. With barely concealed anger and grief she barked to Shiro as she stepped out of the room and began cranking opening the main gates that lead to the outside world.

* * *

Unlike the stifling catacombs of Karste, the setting Babylonian sun shone weakly on Archer and Rin's backs. Miles and miles of sand greeted them as they slowly trudged along, each step taking them closer to their destination. 

"Nightfall is near, Archer. Shall we stop or shall we push on?"

"There are dangerous things wandering around in the dark. Better we stop."

"Weren't you the one who said we needed to get to Goldy's as soon as possible?"

"There is an oasis nearby. Rin, you need the break."

"Psh, "You need the break," says my loyal Servant," Rin playfully bantered on. "Are you sure it's not the big man himself who needs to rest?"

"You were the one complaining about sand in your shoes." Archer thoughtfully retorted as they approach the small pool of water together.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. You had combat boots that must have weighed fifty pounds. I had to pull you out from those pits twice…"

Pausing at the crystalline water, Rin cupped her hands and placed them in. The liquid was warm from the sun yet refreshing to her skin. As she wiped her face carefully, she watched Archer setting up their makeshift shelter.

"Correction. Once. The first time I didn't see the sand scorpion nest. The other time you tripped and shoved me-"

"Whatever. Let's just stop."

"Too tired to argue?" Archer smirked as Rin turned around and took her hairpins off. "Or is my most humble master finally admitting her mistake for once?"

"Too smart," Rin fired back, her eyes dancing with laughter as she winked at her servant. "There's no one around to see me butcher your logic. Besides, I'm getting in the water. My hair needs a break and so does the rest of my body."

"You're taking a bath in the middle of nowhere?"

"Hey. Bathwater is scarce in ancient history. I don't know when I'm going to get another one. We've walked for the bulk of the day anyways, and you yourself said we're stopping."

"Ok. I'm going to gather some firewood –"

Rin couldn't help but giggle a bit as she eyed her servant and winked. _Always the practical one._

"You sure you don't want to jump in with me? There's _no one_ around…"

Archer paused mid-stride as he slowly reversed his steps.

"As you wish, O lady of sands."

* * *

Britain was at peace. 

The serene forests near Camelot castle were filled with life as birds sang in its branches. Groves and groves of ancient willows wavered in the afternoon light as their branches swished back and forth. Oaks stood tall and proud as squirrels hopped around their powerful arms, nesting and looking for acorns. The grass in the glades thrived as toadstools and wildflowers bloomed. Avalon's sparkling stream ran through the lands, powering life.

Britain was at peace. Was.

An eerie silence filled the glade. Birds no longer sing. Flowers no longer bloomed. Where once was green was filled with charred black stumps. The glade is quite as its greenery is stripped. Where the willow once swayed there are now only ashes. Avalon's murky waters flowed on reluctantly, as if unwilling to show the world of its contamination. The dying sun shed its pallid light upon the field where once so much stood.

"Saber. Do you know what might have happened?"

Saber grimaced. She truly had no idea what happened.

"I do not know … I have amplified our velocity by calling on the wind. Yet even the winds are unusually distant. And we have not seen a living soul since we've arrived. I wish I can answer, Shiro. But I simply do not know."

The pair advanced slowly up a steep crescent. The ground was caked with black soot, sometimes as much as knee-high. As they climbed, Shiro noticed something shiny half-covered in the dirt. Mentioning for Saber to stop, he walked over to investigate. The pair soon pulled out a heavily burnt remnant of a shield. The faded crest of a rose crossed with a sword is barely visible under the setting sun.

"That crest belongs to the family of Sir Tristan. It is likely that he met his end here…somewhere nearby. An honorable burial is all I can do."

Carefully picking up the fragment, Saber trotted slowly to the base of a nearby tree. She carved at the ground with Excalibur furiously. Not wishing to disturb her, Shiro decided to go ahead and continue. _She moves faster than me anyways_, he thought to himself as he reached the summit of the hill. _I should go call her to come watch the sunset. Maybe it'll cheer her up. _

The sunlight felt good on his face – its light banishing his uncertainty for a moment. Shiro heard armor clink as he turned and saw Saber move next to him. He smiled and waited for her to comment. But instead, he heard a sharp intake of air as Saber gasped. Excalibur slid numbly from her fingers as her eyes remains fixed, not on the sunset, but on the field below.

It was a graveyard of weapons, standards, and armor. Here, a sword stands plunged into the dirty ground, its jeweled hilt destroyed. There, a smashed axe lies silent on the stones, its once sharp edges now chipped and worn. Broken lances mingled with half-melted platemail as thousands and thousands of them glowed dully in the dusk. A lone, tattered lion banner with half its artwork ripped off fluttered mockingly in a ring of particularly fine remains as Saber rushed down the hill. There were no survivors, no one to tell the world of what has happened. Only their weapons stood in eternal testimony to their sacrifice.

"Here was where Camelot's loyal but foolish defenders made a stand on the plains outside of their beloved manor. They paid heavily for their bravery. The reason? They wouldn't dare to let anyone desecrate the hollow grounds of chivalry."

A pair of shining black boots stomped across the lifeless barrens as a slim young man clad in obsidian knightly armor approached the pair. Blond-haired, entirely flippant, with green eyes reminiscent of Saber's. Yet they were filled with malice and entirely devoid of emotions. Mordred's rich purple cape flowed behind him as he drew his own sword. The runeblade seemed to fuse with his hand as the sword hummed with a nauseating whine.

"What's the matter, my liege?" he taunted, a strangely high-pitched laugh coming from deep down his throat. "The sight too dastardly for your royal highness to handle?"

Saber sneered. Her face quickly became emotionless as she brought up Excalibur in a guard position. She sensed a great amount of power emanating from him and wasn't quite sure how this is going to end. She knew she will fight, but first…

"Shiro. Run. Run to Camelot. See if there are survivors. I'll be late for a moment – I have some catching up to do with my son."

"But Saber! I can fight too –"

"No, leave us. This is not your affair."

Nodding, Shiro started running towards the blackened castle in the foreground as he heard Mordred cackle and the ringing of steel on steel.

* * *

It was a battle of kings. The rightful king of Britain and the rightful heir to the throne fought in the dusk as the wind howled in the empty field beside them. For a long time, both of them stared at another, neither saying a word; each remembering past memories and struggles for power. 

Little did they know that the struggle for power was about to begin yet again.

It was Mordred who made the first move. He lunged at Saber with a graceful yet heavy strike. As Saber casually brought her blade to a defensive position, she was struck with such power that she nearly lost her balance. Surprised, she looked at her opponent. It was then that she noticed the writings on his blade. This moment was all Mordred needed to launch a horizontal swipe at her torso.

Saber gasped as she parried the heavy blow from her opponent. Mordred was significantly more powerful than she had remembered. Not only was he wielding a two-handed sword with one hand, but his swordsmanship has evidently improved. So far, he's managed to keep her on the offensive. The sheer force of his blows was enough to negate any flaws within his attack.

"My liege? Too weak to fight back?" Mordred grinned as he slammed Saber with an overhead slash. The strange carvings on his hand glowed a deep magenta as he stepped forward, gaining ground. He watched in satisfaction as Saber gritted her teeth and pushed his swing back with all her effort.

"Did you…do this?" Saber replied, biting off every word as she grunted from the effort of parrying her opponent. Eyes narrowing, Mordred applied more force to his sword as the two remain deadlocked.

"Yes. My liege. You have defeated me on top of that very hill, times ago. Yet you yourself was also vanquished. Camelot's glory fades without its leader." Mordred snarled as he withdrew suddenly, catching Saber off balance. A flurry of blows too fast for human eye to see as steel met steel and sparks flew from Excalibur's blade.

"My restless spirit was approached by the righteous entity, the Holy Grail itself! It granted me everything that I could have wished for …loyal subjects, nearly limitless power, a knighthood of my own! All I needed to do was eliminate my liege's pesky knights and their respective allies. An easy task, given the natures of my new powers. Hah! You, my liege have sent out knights who were oh-so-pure yet none of them were able to find it. Clearly, my liege. I was supposed to be the rightful ruler! I am the rightful king!"

Passion fueled Mordred's strikes as he spoke, a maniac gleam coming into his eyes.

"Go on. Use Excalibur's powers! My liege, the lady of the lake is weak! She is powerless to preserve you, just as she was powerless to preserve the river Avalon, and her sacred groves. She was a sham. My liege, did you know your knights charged into battle chanting her name, and she answers them not? Hah! My liege, did you know that Excalibur's powers, even if you could draw into them, are merely specks in the dust in comparison to mine? Did you know –"

Mordred's arrogant ramble was cut short as he suddenly reeled back in pain. Saber has scored a solid strike on his shoulder. No blood was drawn, but it stung him. Mordred didn't like being hurt. He also didn't like the fact that he was caught off guard.

"Silence, knave," was Saber's simple response as she lightly touched her bangs and riposted Mordred's follow-up with a blow as ferocious as his own.

"The battle has just begun."

"Indeed. And playtime is over."

* * *

Shiro ran. 

He ran as fast as he could. But Camelot was still so distant. He stopped to catch his breath as night fell and he was by himself.

_At this rate I'll never reach Camelot…_

Huffing, he paused in front of a small clearing that wasn't yet contaminated. It was then he realized he was being an idiot – he _could_ get to Camelot. All he had to do was reinforce his legs. As he drew power from within and channeled it downwards, Shiro grinned to himself sheepishly.

He dashed forward now with larger strides. The woods blurred past him as he chuckled in satisfaction. Soon, the broken gates of Camelot towered over him. As Shiro entered, he was immediately assaulted by a smell he knew all too well. It was coyly sweet and rancid stinking at the same time. It was the smell of death.

Archers lie sprawled at their positions on the walls as they were struck down at where they stood. Men-at-arms seemed to have formed a ring of shields as corpses were scattered all over the large city. The majority of the architecture was razed to the ground as it appeared the shield wall was broken and reformed at two positions. The wounds suffered by the dead were ghastly to see. Entire body parts and limbs were seemly carved off with some mighty strike that was smooth as clean.

It was near the castle's gates that he found the first dead knight – easily distinguishable due to his metallic copper-red armor. The knight sat with his broken sword still in hand – empty eyes staring at the sky, open yet seeing nothing. Bending down, Shiro gently patted the red-haired warrior and closed his eyes.

_Sir Gawain … Saber told me that he was the only one who was clad in red…He was the castellan of the keep. Maybe this place isn't as safe as Saber thought it was._

As Shiro carefully stepped over the bodies and into doors, wary of noise and movement, he heard someone speaking somewhere on top of the castle walls. The chant was too indistinct to make out, but Shiro tensed up and took a torch from one of the dead knights on the floor. Slowly, he entered the castle. _Trying to not balk at the stuff on the walls._

Strangely, the castle was remarkably empty of bodies, yet it was clear that an epic struggle has taken place. There were notches on the great staircase everywhere, suggesting that the defenders retreated to the towers fighting every inch of the way. Following the grand staircase, Shiro glumly advanced. He recognized Sir Bors only because of the unusual dual-swords he had at his side – the body itself was crushed beyond recognition. It wasn't until he heard something crunch underfoot that he realized that he had stepped on something. A closer inspection revealed a scroll case as he noticed there were papers strewn about on the floor. He quickly climbed up the last few flights and found himself in the library. Whoever took care of the bodies have not yet reached this part of the castle yet.

Here, bookshelves were dragged out and used as a barricade further down the hall as another set of stairs connected this part of the castle to the beyond. A lone defender was slumped over an overturned cabinet, her blonde locks stained dark with blood. Shiro didn't need much guessing to figure out who this was – this was Bedivere, the Scholar-General. As he approached the fallen, Shiro noticed a gray tome under one of her arms. Curiosity got the better of him as Shiro picked it up and began reading. It appeared to be a logbook of sorts. The bloodstained pages were full of daily reports and personal notes of troop movements, logistics and events. Shiro scanned through it without much interest. It was then that a smaller, brown book fell out from within. The pages were matted with blood, but Shiro could just make out the barely legible scribbling.

_July 29__th__: We have retreated back to Camelot as the entire countryside is in uproar. The shadow army marches with the traitor-king now riding at their heads…we fought at the fields of…but more came from the north. There can be no help expected as every other …is now fighting on their o(wn) estates. Tomorrow we ride out to meet them in open fields._

Intently reading, Shiro turned the page gently as he tried to decipher every word.

_August 3__rd__: Camlann fields have been lost…Sorrowful day it was that Sir Tris… and his lady Iseult fell while preserving the rest of us. A desperate rearguard action was …They claimed the … there is no hope. We are being trapped withinI try not to show my own fear to the troops…fear within ranks… I am their strategist, the scholar. I cannot … falter. The king promises to return. We will wait. There is still hope…small may it is. _

Shiro continued. There were a few more pages that were so drenched in blood that they were stuck together. After unsuccessfully trying to pry them loose, Shiro decided to go on. The writings were more and more frantic and less cohesive as the stains become larger on the pages.

_August 7__th__: …barred the gates. There is now fighting all over the walls…shadow creatures come…seemingly unstoppable…can hold the gates possibly if Lancelot…Across the seas…_

Shiro could hear what seemed to be the words to a requiem as the old voice again sang on top of the towers. The song was hauntingly epic as the very air seemed to be lamenting.

_August 9__th__: Many have fallen. The outer walls are down. We are surrounded…town… Lancelot cannot…We are on o…razed…Merlin will …but too l…e…_

The writings within the diary wer closer to a scrawl. There was no date.

_We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the city and the first layer of the keep… suffers heavy los…dead…only ones remaining alive are u…Bors and Agarine and Lucius fell while covering citizenry…too many. We still ho…g…but…ope…u…n. Lancelot…the end comes soon. _

_There is no hope. Our liege have ab…We have taken up positions, determined to sell our lives in defense of everything that belongs to our liege. The royal li…rar…shall be my grave. Here I shall fall with… _

_We hear drums, drums, drums. Drums in the deep. Drums in the deep beyond the walls._

Shiro turned the page as the requiem above him slowly faded away. The page was blank except for a hurried scribble.

_They are coming. _

There was nothing more.

Shiro stared at the diary for a long time, finally pocketing it. Picking up Bedivere, he carefully placed her on a table and crossed her arms. Placing the sword on the floor in her cold fingers, Shiro bowed, not knowing any prayers to say. He scurried out of the room and started toward the stairs that will lead him to the top of the keep.

True enough, there was someone there. A figure, its back slightly bent was gesturing and chanting as he arranged the dead knights onto shimmering stone biers.

"_Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine; In memoria æterna erit justus, ab auditione mala non timebit..."_

The requiem stopped as the stranger turned to face Shiro. It was an old man. His sharp features were enhanced by a pair of grey penetrating eyes. Upon his head sat a battered black pointy hat as he drew his black cloak in around him. His posture reminded Shiro of a hawk. For a moment, the two studied each other. It was the old man who spoke first, his shaggy eyebrows furrowing as he stared at the younger man.

"You are …Emiya Shiro, my protégé's friend, are you not?"

"Yes," Shiro answered. "Sir." Adding onto the honorific title as somehow he felt that it was befitting to the person in front of him, Shiro couldn't help but think outloud.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?"

The old man laughed bitterly as he turned back and carried another knight onto a bier.

"I am a self-styled wizard who came too late to save these lives," he answered as he chuckled slightly still, seeing Shiro's jaw drop in surprise.

"I know why you're here, Emiya Shiro. My second sight allowed me to divine your coming. Unfortunately, my second sight was not enough to prevent this from happening… You are here to stop the madness caused by the Grail, are you not?"

"Yes sir."

"Here. Assist me in giving these honorable ones proper burial first."

The two worked silently as they arranged the knights in a circular fashion and scoured the castle. There were fifty-two in all, including Bedivere. Gesturing for Shiro to step back, the old man spoke a word of command as flames in the shape of a phoenix engulfed the bodies. A cleansing smell of pine wafted through the castle as the old man slowly chanted words to an ancient lament.

"_Lux æterna luceat eis, Domine, cum sanctis tuis in æternum, quia pius es. Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine; et lux perpetua luceat eis."_

The fire burned as Shiro and his companion silently waited. As the flames died down, the old man turned to Shiro and spoke gently.

"Emiya Shiro. I am the court magician, teacher, friend, and advisor to King Arthur, rightful heir of the Pendragon line. I am known by many names; Myrddin, Ambrosius, but you know of me as Merlin. Tell me your tale and I'll tell you mine."

Shiro did, recounting everything from John Locke to his own battles. The old man listened intently. When Shiro finished, he sighed.

"Truly what you speak of is true…I have seen it with my own visions. I should have known when Nimue approaches with a warning, begging me to leave with her to another plane, away from this world. Alas, that I ignored her pleading…"

"I was in my study when the Grail approached me with a promise of unlimited knowledge, where all would be known to me and I will be able to shape the world according to my bidding. It was so tempting … especially after the misfortunate chain of recent events. It presented me with the Rubicon, a cursed weapon of unlimited power. All I had to do was draw it from its scabbard and what I desire will be mine."

Merlin paused, a pained look coming into his eyes as he told the rest of his tale.

"I had the sword in my hands, and it belong to me. I felt its power coursing through my veins. Then she came. Nimue, always faithful remained behind when all other spirits and elves have fled. She tried to persuade me and bring me back to reason. Yet…I was not swayed by her words. In my anger and lust for power I lashed out at her, my loyal student, companion and love. She stood there, absorbing every hex and bolt of raw elemental fury I unleashed upon her. She did not strike back for fear of me drawing into the power of the Rubicon. It does that to a man, you know. It wasn't until she fell, lifeless that I realized the magnitude of my error. With all the willpower I possessed, I threw the Rubicon away and collapsed. When I came to, I realized what I had done – and in my grief I ignored the callings from Camelot. My ignorance has caused the fall of an entire kingdom."

The two sat in silence as Merlin stopped, each in his own mental world. Finally, Shiro decided to break the silence as he tried to comfort the old man.

"I'm sure it will be alright. You'll help us fix things, right? With you and Saber, I'm pretty sure that you can beat the guy with the weird-looking purply sword and preserve the nodes. This world isn't lost yet…We can stop the Grail."

Merlin nodded in affirmation. Suddenly, his eyes widened in surprise. With surprising alacrity he grabbed Shiro by his shirt and pulled him up to eye-level.

"This man you said Artur-, excuse me, young man. Saber was fighting. What did he look like?"

"He was blond haired, with long hair. He had green eyes like Saber. In fact, he looked just like"

"Mordred?! Describe his weapon. "Purply sword?"

"It was a strangely glowing blade. When he drew it, it made this weird humming noise. The glowing was kind of purple and it made me a bit light-headed."

"You Idiot! That is the Rubicon!"

"Urr?" Shiro blinked. The magician in his passion was intimidating. Merlin hurried paced about, brows furrowed in concentration. Finally, he seemed to remember what he was looking for in his memory and bent down on the ground and drew a circle.

"There is no time. We must get there before it is too late. Come, we ride the winds of magic. We're teleporting to save your Saber."

* * *

Saber was sweating. 

The duel has not been going her way. She hasn't yet scratched Mordred and already she was growing tired. She hasn't been wounded yet, but she was definitely being worn down.

Mordred, on the other hand seemed to be enjoying himself as he lunged and swept with great flamboyance. Between every strike he taunted Saber, cackling to himself as he watched her sweat.

"My liege. Did you know that that foolish knight of yours, Tristan tried to "hold me off" so his other little rats can run back and save themselves?" Mordred swung lazily as he watched Saber parry this attack with great effort.

"Did you know that his little lady, that whore of a sorceress Iseult stayed behind with him, and how they thought they could delay me, Mordred, the Once and Future King? Did you know that I ravished her in front of her husband and then cut them up both slowly, one piece at a time? Oh, how I relished the moment! Did you know that I, using the command of my shadows, annihilated your Knights of the Round Table just a few weeks ago here, at this very same spot?"

Saber gnarled her teeth as she leapt and executed an overhead slash, which Mordred parried with little effort.

"Did you know the fate of Gawain, that redhaired idiot tried to stop me by challenging me to single combat? Or of Cornelius, that fat guard captain who tried to save as many of my liege's precious citizens as possible? Or the fate of Bors, Ector, Agavrine, Bedivere, Kays, or any of those fools, my liege?"

Mordred grinned; a mad look came onto his face as his movements became impossibly fast.

"You … killed…them…" Saber muttered as she tried to catch her breath and watch her opponent.

"Oh! How wise, my liege! You are absolutely…" Mordred saw an opening and kicked Saber in her back. Gasping, she tried to bring Excalibur up. It was too late; she lost her balance and barely managed to spun out of the way as Mordred's sword scored a deep gash across her right side. Panting heavily, she tried to slash back but Excalibur only met empty air. Another flash of pain barreled into her sense as Mordred cut into her left arm. She fell onto the ground and quickly rolled out of the way as Mordred sneered.

"First and second blood, my liege. Ready to surrender your crown to me?"

Saber breathed heavily. She knew her chance of winning is rapidly diminishing.

"…Never," she barked as she raised Excalibur and dashed toward her opponent.

"Give up, my liege. This very cursed land feeds me power." Mordred haughtily replied as he sidestepped out of her way and inflicted yet another cut on her back. He smirked in satisfaction as he watched Saber drop to one knee, gasping heavily. Bleeding and battered, she was in no condition to continue fighting.

"That must have left a mark, my liege! Shall I call up your loyal knights? Oh. Wait. I'm sorry, my liege! They are all dead!"

Advancing slowly towards his opponent, Mordred hefted his weapon.

_No. It cannot end like this. _Saber's mind frantically tried to muster her strength as she watched Mordred approach. _There is still much to be done. _

_King Arturia,_whispered a voice in her head. _Are you willing to do whatever it takes to secure victory?_

_Yes! _She thought empathically to herself. It was strange, but the world seemed to be at a standstill as something talked directly to her mind.

_Use me. I'll grant your wishes._

Saber hesitated.

_King Arturia. Why not? If you fall here, you will never see your beloved Shiro again. Your knights will go unavenged, and the entire world will fall into darkness.  
_

Saber gritted her teeth. It was so tempting to accept, yet it feels …so wrong.

_I am the sword in your opponent's hand. I am the Rubicon. He is a weak master. Honorless and unworthy of my powers. You are much worthier. You are of true royal blood. Use me. Use me to defeat this cur!_

"Have you said your prayers, my liege? I'd like to finish this!" With a riposte, Mordred knocked Excalibur out of her hands.

_Accept my powers. Use it for good, not for evil like he did! Use me. Let me be your strength. _

…

"Get ready to see your knights in the afterlife, my liege! Have you any last words?"

_Use me use me use me use me use me use me use me_

As the sword came whistling down, Saber said two words in a whisper far too faint for anyone else but her to hear.

"…I accept."

A tremendous gust of wind roared in spot as Mordred screamed in pain, the sword in his hands glowing. It shone with a fierce purple light as the light tore into Mordred, tearing away his armor and knocking him down. The whirling blades of purple light cut into his skin as he howled in anguish. Then, rapidly reforming, the light soon formed into a magnificent two-handed sword and landed in the ground in front of her.

_Take me. Use me. Strike him down. He who caused the kingdom so much pain…_

"…Fa-father?" Groaning, Mordred feebly tried to get back onto his feet. His eyes widened in horror as he realized what happened as tears slowly trickled down his face.

"By the Gods…no. My liege. Forgive me. I was under the possession of another soul, the soul which is in your hands now. Oh Gods, the pain! My liege!"

Saber paused. She looked at Excalibur, its blade dull and lifeless in the night. Moonlight shone upon her visage as her eyes narrowed menacingly.

"My liege. It's not too late. Do not give in to it! Put it down! Do not make the same mistake I made –" Mordred's plea was cut short as he wailed in pain, the Rubicon cutting deeply into his flesh. Coughing and choking, he writhed in agony as Saber twisted the sword.

"No. You're beyond redemption."

With a sigh, Mordred stopped moving. Saber felt a momentary feeling of distress as she looked into his eyes. Eyes that were not full of hate, but of resignation, regret, and self-loathing. She turned around to Excalibur and hefted it. It was unusually heavy and felt freezing to the touch.

"Saber!!"

"Arturia! What have you done?"An old voice carved through the darkness as two figures stepped from the woods.

Saber turned around. The Rubicon gave her new energy, new emotions, and new powers. She was not quite herself as she seemed to be watching herself from another angle, as if she was outside of her body. Her own voice chilled her to the core as she heard herself speak.

"Merlin. How kind of you to show now."

"Arturia. Listen to me. That weapon … is not meant to be used by man! You have your rightful blade, Excalibur, the sword of dreams. Is that not enough?"

"No. Excalibur abandoned me in my hour of need. I have this now. Merlin. For old time's sakes, move out of the way or else I will cut you down."

"Arturia, what will you do with it?" Merlin tensed as he pulled out a long oaken staff. The tip of the staff glowed with arcane energy as the dragonclaw crystal carvings shone with an elfin light."

"I will kill."

"Saber! What happened to you? Why are you acting like this?"

_It's the annoying little brat. Remember. He was the reason why you had to go to the other world. He was the reason why you were not there to save your knights. Strike him down._

No! Saber said to herself. He is Shiro. I can't attack Shiro –

_Strike him down. For the good of the kingdom. _

"Saber, stop! Merlin's right. Listen to him!"

_Look at him. Siding with the old man, the old man who stood by and did nothing while your knights bled to death on Camelot's walls. Strike him down._

A part of Saber wanted to scream. She wanted to drop the sword. To her horror, she realized that she can't. It was like the sword was welded to her arms.

_Resist if you want, Arturia. But I am right. I am always right. It's for the good of the kingdom that we are doing this. _

Shiro stood out with his arms open. His voice was as loud as ever, though there was a hint of uncertainty as he shouted.

"Saber! Don't you know me? What are you doing? Stop! This isn't like you!"

The only reply he got was a ghastly grin as Saber gripped the Rubicon tightly. She trotted slowly towards him. Her once-silver armor has taken on a grayish hue, and her blue dress turns darker and darker with each step.

"Merlin?! What's wrong with her?"

Merlin shook his head as he looked to his former student and the young man in front of him.

"She has been lost to the power of the Rubicon. The Saber you knew was gone."

"I don't believe you! Saber! Stop! Why are you holding that sword like you wanted to kill me? Stop!"

_That's right. We do want to kill him. Kill him. Arturia. Kill him and we can begin avenging your knights!_

No. This is wrong. This has gone far enough.

_Kill him. Kill him kill him_

Her body no longer responding to her commands, Saber watched herself break into a run as she charged with the Rubicon, her expressionless face intent on having blood. She recoiled in horror and closed her eyes as she winced, anticipating steel meeting solid flesh.

Instead, the sword met wood as it met Merlin's enchanted oaken staff. Shiro flopped on the ground as Merlin rushed in and saved his life. Saber breathed a sign of relief. However, her ease was cut short when she once again picked up her sword.

"Saber?" Dazed, Shiro stared at her, clearly hurt by her behavior. "Saber?"

How she wished she could have told him! Instead, her mouth would not open. she chopped at Shiro. Her sword hit an invisible barrier as Merlin conjured up a shield.

"Arturia. This has gone far enough. You shall not pass!"

_He dares to aid the one whom we must destroy. Your teacher must die as well!_ The voice whispered as Saber hacked away at the batter. Sparks flew as she chipped away Merlin's enchantment.

"Emiya Shiro. Take Excalibur and escape!"

"But how?"

"Idiot! Use that portal I just conjured!" Merlin growled as his shield strained under the constant assault. "I'm not as young as I once was!"

"What about you?" Shiro's question was cut short as Merlin let loose an arc of lightning. Saber deflected the bolt easily as the surge harmlessly bounced off her blade. Eye narrowing into dangerous slits, Merlin concentrated.

"**Fly, you fool!**" Merlin's hoarse whisper echoed across the night as he commanded Shiro.

Shiro nodded. With one last pained look, he ran past Merlin, grabbed Excalibur and started to disappear in the little circle of light. The barrier Merlin summoned was bright now, its hallowed light glowing in the night air as the darkness threatened to engulf it. The dragonclaw crystal glowed like the blazing sun as it illuminated Merlin's ancient face.

"Merlin." Saber spoke. Her voice as mechanical as the blade she had in front of her.

"This is your last chance. You know you cannot win against me. You, who rejected me once shall perish this time. Nimue isn't around to save you. Step away. I do not wish to kill potential vassals."

"Perhaps!" The old man huffed, evidently strained by his efforts. He was clearly satisfied with himself as he curtly replied to Saber's taunt.

"I know from my visions that today, here is where I will fall. But the decisive factor is that I brought this one time. Where I have failed, he will succeed! You should also know that this old man won't make the same mistake twice!"

"Then prepare to die."

"You'll not find me easy prey." With that, Merlin began his counterattack. Tornados raged across the field as fissures and cracks opened in the ground. Mighty spheres of lightning and fireballs appeared at whim. The display of elemental power was impressive – though most of these seemed to have no adverse effect. Even though Saber tried to advance, but the arcane winds pinned her down. She was unable to take a step forward.

_You see how even your teacher dares to try to stop you here…when you could be carrying out vengeance._ The sword said to her. _You have not yet tapped fully into my strength. Use me like you really wish it. Use me …if you wish true vengeance!_

"Arturia! I said it before, I will say it again. It is not too late! Please, for all of us. Drop that sword!"

A part of Saber desperately wanted to scream and say yes. But the rest of her said no. Saber shook her head, a maniac glint coming into her eyes. The same look that was on Mordred's face as he advanced.

"You leave me with no choice. Arturia," Merlin whispered harshly. His voice was drowned with sorrow as he continued. "Then I will be forced to unleash my full power."

Saber shook her head. The winds were blowing so fiercely that her eyes hurt. Sighing, but determined to fulfill his threat, Merlin's hands glowed with ethereal energy as the stars in the skies were completely blotted out. In the blanketing darkness that ensued, a brilliant object streaked across the night.

"Harbinger of woe. I have never thought the need to call upon you…"

Saber. Drop the sword. Saber. Drop it. A voice that sounded suspiciously Shiro-like called to her in the back of her head.

_Your teacher has betrayed us! See how he uses the Comet of Casandora. Even I am powerless against astral powers such as that!  
_

"Casandora, Cassandra. The prophetess of doom. Arturia. Do you still remember the lessons I gave you, so long ago?"

Merlin's cloak billowed out in the gust as a glowing red dot descended upon the battlefield. The comet was both beautiful and terrible to behold as the dot became a speck, then a blot, revealing its enormous size as it approached. Merlin watched his opponent, shaking his head.

"The Comet of Casandora comes, Arturia. Soon not even I will have the power to dispel it."

To his great surprise, Saber bent down and plunged the sword into the black earth. A strange look appeared on her face for a moment, but her expression remained carefully neutral.

"Merlin. You are right. I'll abandon the weapon, but I need your help. I can't do it alone."

This time, Saber did scream as she watched her mentor and friend paused, his hesitance evident as he motioned towards the meteor. She heard herself speak those words again, but she was so distant from her body. Stop, Merlin. Stop! That isn't me speaking. She looked Merlin directly in the eye as she tried to convey her feelings. Yet Merlin was unaware of her anguish as the elemental forces surrounding him disappeared, leaving only the light barrier between them. Saber smirked dangerously as she knelt down beside the weapon.

_See how predictable is the fool? Your hands never left the hilt. You belong to me now, as I belong to you. Heart, body and soul._ _Strike him down._

Too late did Merlin see that the obsidian gauntlets still clutched the Rubicon tightly. Shouting a word of command, Saber unleashed the full strength of the cursed artifact. The purple energies rushed out like torrential downpour and barraged Merlin. Caught by surprise, the magician was split between two actions. He could maintain his spells or stop the Comet of Casandora's descent, but not both at the same time. The dragonclaw crystal atop Merlin's staff glowed as Merlin struggled. He was going to have to drop his guidance on the comet.

Saber braced herself for impact. Though she was powerless in control of her own body, her honor told her that she had not only betrayed one, no; two of her closest friends, but also that she have committed to a grave cause. She was almost glad of her eminent annihilation as the Comet of Casandora blitzed through the clouds.

Closing her eyes, she waited for her moment of oblivion. Then, she found herself grasping the Rubicon and moving. Merlin was smiling. A wistful, compassionate smile of understanding appeared on his face as he gestured.

"Don't do it, Merlin. Don't do it! Can't you see that this is not me?" For a moment, Saber was back in control as she desperately wailed at him.

"Arturia. I know. But this is the only way."

The dragonclaw crystal grew brighter and brighter, until suddenly, it shattered. With it, the Comet of Casandora vanished suddenly as well. Breathing heavily, Merlin's barrier was struck by four bolts of dark energy emanating from the Rubicon. As a fifth one penetrated his shield and he reeled back in anguish, Saber dashed forward and methodically stabbed him in his chest.

Soundlessly, the magician collapsed, the remnant of a smile still on his face as his body disappeared in a shower of light.

A small tear trickling from the corner of her eye as Saber wiped her sword unceremoniously on Merlin's cloak was all the control of her body she had left. She didn't know why she was crying. Was for Shiro? For Merlin? For her knights? Or was it for her and the loss of everything she once was? She did not know. Behind her, the deadly quietude of the forest was marked by the stars slowly rising into the crestfallen skies. All was still.

* * *

On a mountaintop, a man in his prime watched the display of light. Bowing his head silently for a moment, he turned towards the rest of his troops, grimacing. 

"Merlin fell."

A round of gasps was heard in the camp. Motioning for silence, the man stood up, his shadows stretching far onto the nearby cliff as moonlight shone on his youthful but seasoned face.

"It's all on us now. We're England's last hope."


	8. Only a flesh wound?

Author's note: Special thanks to Yuurei and Alyx Weill. You'll see what you guys mean when you read the fic. This is past BETA, but expect small grammar fixes here and there.

As always, there's an obscure reference to something. Cookie to anyone who gets it!

Also. As a warning. The ending is ambiguous for a reason.

* * *

Dawn. 

The ominous darkness slowly gave away as the sun slowly climbed over the horizon. Shining on the prone figure on the ground, the scorched grass weakly wavered in the light. Shiro slowly opened his eyes. As he blinked rapidly, the events of the previous night came rushing to him. He groaned. Too many things have happened in too short of a time. He was feeling lost, hopeless, scared. Saber was gone. He couldn't believe it.

_What happened? What happened to the Saber I knew and loved? _Shiro closed his eyes and reopened them, as if the act will remove all traces of what has happened last night. To his great disappointment, it wasn't a dream and it really did happen. He was now alone in a strange land; his former Servant and love interest tried to skewer him yesterday; the one man that might have helped the situation hasn't shown up to help him yet. To say that Shiro was in some serious trouble was an understatement.

Slowly climbing back onto his feet, Shiro grabbed the hilt of Excalibur. It was all he had to remind himself that there is still hope.

"Excalibur … the sword of promised victory." Shiro muttered as he stared at the blade, wishing for it to respond. The eerie silence was unbearable as he slowly trudged forward. For him, the only thing he could do is to walk on.

* * *

John Locke frowned as he looked into his tablet. Playing with a loose strand of hair, he absentmindedly tapped the Tabula Rasa as it blinked into life and showed Shiro's progress. He crossed his fingers and sighed. This wasn't looking good. 

"Alright. Show me what's going on with the rest of that realm. I know Saber's been lost – that is fixable, I think. I'm fairly sure the natural order along with whoever's still alive is still putting up a decent fight; else we would have lost the ability to spy on it in the first place. Has Avalon itself responded to anything at this moment?"

The Tabula Rasa immediately went blank as idle dots appeared in one side. Locke slapped his forehead.

"This is not the time to be making sarcastic comments; just get to the point."

A series of small pictures appeared on-screen as Locke nodded in affirmation. Ilya peered over his shoulder and looked at them in interest. She was perched on top of Berserker's shoulder, who seemed to have fallen asleep while standing up.

"Professor John Locke? What is your little computer-thing doing?"

"Professor or "Locke" is fine. It's showing us what's happening to history as we speak," Locke smiled, waving his hand nonchalantly and stood up as the Tabula Rasa stretched over to accommodate its new reader. A flurry of activity can be seen as lights and pictures disappeared and re-appeared as soon as a flash of the eye.

"I believe I've told you that the Tabula Rasa literally translates to the "blank slate," right? Well, to explain myself better, the blank slate is literally the state of the human mind – our own minds when we are first born. You see, our modern ideas of laws are really grounded on this idea – in order to process the data, we must add rules and regulations to it. A precept or a status quo, if you will. My little friend here - " patting the Tabula Rasa like a master petting a favorite pet dog, Locke continued. "Is essentially our mirror and gateway to watch reality unfold. By tapping into the original state of conscious thought, it's able to simultaneously process the collective unconscious and thus, show us what happens or did happen in history. This little thing lets us track down the Grail's actions and movements and allows us to access and use Nodal fragments. It also doubles as a spy-camera, a blackboard, a timeline of world events, graphic organizer, tracker of the next Royal Academy debate match and it's one hundred percent environmental friendly. Am I making sense so far?"

"Uh…You lost me at the status quo and precept part." Ilya meekly responded.

"Eh, well…It's alright. It's hard to explain. Here, why don't you come help me sort out my notes or something? It'll keep you occupied until your large friend over there wakes up."

"I am awake, John Locke," replied Berserker gruffly. He has been awake for the past hour but kept his eyes closed in hope that Ilya wouldn't be bothering him or pulling on his hair. "I'm not really interested in how your Noble Phantasms work. I know we're here to save the world, but I've got a question too. What I'd like to know is that why aren't we out there, helping my fellow heroes and the young ones fight. Why haven't we been sent out to save one of those Points of Influences with a Nodal Fragments yet?"

John Locke pursed his lips for a moment as the Tabula Rasa once again lapsed into inactivity. After a tense moment, he replied.

"Well, you see. We – I mean, I'd like to have someone keep an eye on the city. You know that though this residence is in the suburbs, there are still plenty of chances for an attack. Until I finish my enchantment to suspend reality so others won't be a part of the battle, it would be terribly unfortunate if something did happen to the city while the heroes are present, wouldn't it?"

"Wait a minute. Suspend reality? What?!" Ilya gulped. She had seen plenty of magic, but nothing even close to this sort. She had a feeling that this enigmatic philosopher was joking, but a quick glance at his sharp eyes told her that this was no joke. For a brief moment, she felt a presence as ancient as time itself, yet the feeling disappeared as soon as it came, leaving her to wonder whether or not it was some trick of the lights.

"Well, not quite "suspend," as it is more something like this. Through again, my efforts and this little whiteboard here, what I can do is place a mechanism upon anyone who enters this world. In other words, you can still interact with the world as normal, but anyone who is spirit-related or anyone entering this world at this point will be unable to affect the reality – in other words, whatever buildings you destroy, trees you uproot, and the like will not be permanent but rather only be in this duplication..."

Locke sighed as he paused and adjusted his collar. "My apologies for not making things clearer. It is difficult for a teacher to explain to such bright students when even the teacher himself cannot put the concept into words."

"I get it. Your Noble Phantasm is that little tablet that you're carrying, and that you're one of those Counter-guardians like Archer, aren't you? Only a true hero will think of the countless innocents at stake should the Grail make its move here."

All heads in the room turned to Sakura as she entered the room. Her blue bangs waved gently in the morning air as she blushed, unused to the attention. Locke smiled again as he tapped his long fingers on the Tabula Rasa.

"Well, I'm no… Alright. It is as you say. Yes. You are correct in that regard."

"John Locke. You still haven't answered my question. Why haven't we been sent out to save one of those Nodal Fragments yet?"

Locke held up a finger and gestured for them to wait. After a few seconds, he replied in an even tone as the Tabula Rasa flashed crimson and statistics begin to fly off the board at an alarming rate.

"Well, we've got incoming. Just north from the house, actually."

Berserker tensed as his stone club instantly materialized in his hand.

"Could have told me earlier."

Every inch the mighty warrior, Hercules, he stood tall as his bronze skin glistened in the light. He stretched and swung his club a few times, just to feel the balance. Muscles bulged in his powerful arms as he nodded in satisfaction. He looked to Ilya, who signaled her readiness with resolve. Her childish nature instantly gone as she hopped onto his shoulder, a serious look in her eyes. He can sense the magic emanating from her, and he was grateful that there was much skill in a girl so young.

"Are you ready, Berserker? Let's go!"

The giant and his tiny rider lumbered out the front door. Behind them, Sakura quietly sighed. _I wish I could do something_ She thought wistfully. _I feel utterly useless. It's always Rin or Shiro or Saber getting to do things. Always them getting the center of the stage._ Closing her eyes, she was about to go to sleep when she hear Locke's voice drifting in from the kitchen.

"Miss Mato? If you wouldn't mind, could you come here for a moment?"

"Yes, Professor?" Sakura replied. Feeling awful or not, she was still Sakura.

"Well, I require your assistance; come here before my tablet changes its mind!"

* * *

Shiro's legs felt like sandbags as they ampled forward. It was daybreak and he still hasn't seen a living soul. He was disturbed. The sun shone dully on his back as his ears whined and his mouth ran dry. What he wouldn't give for a drink right now… 

Pausing under a blackened oak tree, he plopped down at its roots. Relishing what little shade the dead branches offered him, Shiro placed Excalibur beside him and stretched. A break was nice and he needed it.

_I wish I knew what was going on…Locke said we were supposed to preserve the points of influence by using nodal fragments, but he didn't even tell us how._Shiro sighed, noticing the echo of his breathing across the area. Not even the winds moved. Everything seemed to be …dead. He sighed again. At least he was not far from Karste – he could see Camelot over the horizon as a tiny significant dot. The sight gave him a little bit of hope.

_Right now, I need to reach Avalon. I need to at least return Saber's sword. And as long as I believe, I'll succeed. I'll be a hero. I will help everyone save our world!_

Grabbing the hilt of Excalibur, Shiro leapt back to his feet. The only response to his sudden action was a small dirt devil spinning rapidly away from him. As if the dustball provoked him, Shiro lashed out at the tree with the sword. He was slightly frustrated; fearful, and suffering from a multitude of issues. A nasty little voice behind his ear whispered to him.

_How do you expect to succeed? Saber failed. What made you better? Do you even know what you're doing or where you're going?  
_

I'm heading to Avalon to return Saber's sword. Merlin said he'll come help me. I'll find someone…they'll tell me what I need to do.

_Idiot. Merlin's not showing up. He's probably dead. And soon, you will be too. You have no food, water, or shelter. What will you do if Saber catches up to you? _

Shiro blinked. He tried to push the image of Saber, now clad totally in dark armor rushing after him with that strange sword.

"Can't be negative now," he muttered to himself. "The world depends on it."

_Yes_, the voice said in a tone suspiciously resembling Archer. _What are you going to do, fight with sticks and harsh words? You can't even use Excalibur. Just how do you plan on saving the world anyways?_

Shiro had no comeback to talk himself out of it. Snarling, he hacked away at the stump. The action made him more lightheaded, but he felt better. Sparks flew as enchanted metal met hardened wood as Shiro slashed it a few more times for good measure. Satisfied and also feeling a bit guilty, he moved on.

He took a mere two steps before realizing that something strange was happening. His surroundings were suddenly…green. The road was still dirt covered, but everywhere else was …green. The trees waved to him in the distance and the rest of the area was covered with lush, long grass. Shiro rubbed his eyes. _I must be delusional_, he thought.

He wasn't. The tree stump was still there, complete with the notches he made with Excalibur five minutes ago. Camelot was still faintly seen in the background – but everything was covered with plants and life. Trees seemed to have sprung out of nowhere as he stood there, mouth open in surprised. Straining his senses to figure out what was going on, he heard a loud voice singing further down from the road.

"Life ish a waste o'time…Life ish a hic waste o'time!"

The singer walked into view. He was a chubby, balding man in his early forties. Shiro raised his eyebrows and stared in pure curiosity.

"O' all my favorishte tshings to do, the utmost ish to have a brew!"

Walking with the biggest ale tankard ever in one hand and a very battered copy of the Bible in the other, he sang cheerfully as he trudged along. His brown robes had certainly seen better days and his rosary beads dangled like a tail behind him.

"My love growsh for my foamy friend, with each tshrist-quenchin' elbow bend."

It was unclear whether the monk was just careless or roaring drunk. He stepped on a bead, wobbled precariously and found his balance again as he strolled towards Shiro, apparently happily oblivious of the fact that there was a red-haired boy gaping at him as Excalibur slid numbly onto the ground.

"Ale ish soh froshty, smoosth and cold…Ish paradise, pure liquid gold!" The friar continued, ale sloshing out from his tankard. "Sho get wasted all o' the time, and always cheer your - " pausing there for a moment and staring at Shiro, the friar stopped dead in his track and grinned at him.

"Why, hello dere hic you want thish drink?"

"Uh…" Shiro wasn't sure if he should be taking it or not. Clearly he was underage and he probably shouldn't be taking drinks from strangers anyways. Yet, his thirst gnawed at him and he badly wanted a sip. Convincing his brain of the righteousness of his actions, he nodded and took the mug and gulped it down.

"Ish nice?"

"Yeah, thank you," Shiro replied. He wasn't used to the slightly sweet, tangy taste. But it felt good and the drink reinvigorated him. Handing the tankard back to the friar, he picked Excalibur back up and prepared to continue. The blade flashed in the sunlight as for a moment it shone once again with its former glory.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!! ISH A BANDIT! 'e's trying to SLARSH me!" Screamed the friar, his expressions fearful as he saw Excalibur in Shiro's hands. Flinging his tankard onto the ground, he turned tail and fled back the way he came from.

"HALP hic! DERE ISH BANDIT TRYING TO hic SLARSH ME!"

"Wait, no! Hold on, it's not - " Shiro paused in midsentence. He wasn't sure if he should be bending over laughing or trying to explain to the poor man that he meant him no harm. Reinforcing his legs, he picked up the tankard and dashed towards the friar, soon passing him. Smiling, he handed the drinking vessel back to its bewildered master.

"Here, I think you dropped this."

The look the friar gave to him was one of pure, undulated terror as he shook from head to toe.

"**AAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAA A AA AAA AAA AAAA!!!! ****DER BANDIT ISH CAUGHT'D ME! I ISH BE ****SLARSHED****!"**

The friar bawled in a loud voice enough to shatter windows or raise the dead. This time, Shiro couldn't help himself. He dropped Excalibur and bend over laughing as the friar mistook his actions for one of hostility and quickly leapt backwards, tripping over his brown robes in the process. The sight made Shiro laugh harder. He moved closer to the friar and offered him his hand.

"Sir, do you want some help getting up," he smiled, ducking his head as he leaned over the prone friar, who was now flopping around on the road like a fish. Shiro heard a sharp twang, but he paid it no heed. He wanted to help this guy. "I'm not a bandit. My name is Emiya Shiro."

It was then he noticed the white-fletched arrow in front of him. Shiro's eyes widened in surprise as he realized, had he not bend down and offered to help the man up, he would be dead. _That must have been the twang I heard._

Now tense, he looked around him. He saw nothing but trees. Silently cursing himself, Shiro pulled Excalibur into a defensive posture. He wished he knew how to deflect arrows – seeing Saber doing it once. Straining his senses, he saw nothing. Apart from the friar's incoherent ramblings, the forest was dead silent. Another white-fletched arrow whistled dangerously over his head.

"WILL! MARIAN! hic ISH ME! HALP! BANDIT!"

Shiro grunted in annoyance as yet another arrow whizzed past his head. Whoever was making these shots was purposefully missing. He wanted to say he wasn't a bandit, and that this was just all a misunderstanding, but his thoughts were interrupted as a red fletched arrow landed squarely in front of his feet. A voice called out to Shiro from one of the trees.

"Dear, haven't you learned that you don't pick on defenseless, ignorant, and_intoxicated_ members of the church?"

The speaker was a young woman in her early twenties. Dressed like a hunter, she was shapely yet moved with a lethal grace as she held her longbow in her hands. Her clothing had a dark hue; it blends perfectly with the environment. A green cape draped behind her and pooled on a branch as she leaned forward, her deerskin blouse showing her slightly tanned skin. Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as she pulled back her bowstring.

"Any last words, dear?"

"Marian. For God's sake. Stop playing and just shoot him. We've got bigger shit on our hands to handle than this kid."

Another man dropped from the branches. His rugged appearance contrasted with the maiden's as he placed a white feathered arrow onto his own bow. His actions were abrupt, methodical, and professionally soldier-like; his tattered tunic and leggings were of similar make and tone as the young woman's beside him. A scar ran across his face as he frowned.

"Will, you know I like to play with the prey first…" The lady winked. "Besides, you know I'm a better shot. When Robin gets here this mugger'll be like a pincushion."

"Wait! No, I'm not a bandit – I'm not trying to," Shiro yelled. He meant no harm! "I'm not trying to hurt him! He just dropped his tankard when he saw me!"

"Dear, like I'm going to believe that. Tuck never leaves a drop of alcohol behind," the young woman huffed and ran her fingers through her long, hazel hair. "Goodbye."

She fired her bow. This time, the arrow was on straight trajectory towards Shiro's heart. Before it could reach, however, another arrow shot directly into her red feathered shot and knocked it out of the way.

"Marian, honey? What did I tell you about treating strangers who aren't being openly hostile?"

Both Marian and Shiro turned at the source of this new voice as a third man dropped down from the trees and landed in front of Shiro. His weathered face was full of stubbles and his ruffled brown hair peeked out from under a ridiculously pointy hat with a gigantic red feather stuck on it. His sword, horn and pouches dangled easily from his leather belt as he casually picked up Tuck's tankard. Marian's eyes softened as they met his warm gaze and she chuckled.

"Alright, love. "Ask questions first, shoot after."

"That's my lass!" blowing her a kiss, the ranger turned to face Shiro.

"Hi there, young man. I'm Robin of Loxley, and these are my merry men-in-arms - "

"Merry woman-in-arms too," winked Marian.

"- comrades-in-arms. Marian, Will Scarlet, and the friar passed out on the ground are Tuck. I'd be happy to turn you into a pincushion but I'd be happier to hear what you've got to say.."

Shiro recounted his tale, starting from how he met friar Tuck on the road and the events in relation to the past night. He talked about John Locke, Saber, and what was happening to reality. Robin's eyes narrowed for a moment as he studied Excalibur intently. When he finished his story, he nodded to Will and Marian.

"It's just as I thought…The flashes of light we saw last night." emphasizing his point with a flex of his hand, Robin continued. "It is as I said, we're England's last hope. Young man, why don't you tag along with us?"

"Robin, this kid could be lying to your face." Will retorted as he eyed Shiro suspiciously. "I'm still not getting his story."

"Will, dear. You know we got pulled out from Nottingham for a reason – we've been in this time period for two months now," added Marian as she cut Will off. "I believe him. We wouldn't be around otherwise. His story about heroic spirits and the Holy Grail was quite flattering, actually. Can you imagine we're one of these driving factors behind the world that keep it functioning?"

"Indeed. You certainly keep me functioning…" Robin playfully bantered back. Seeing Will scowl in impatience, however, he quickly added. "Just to be safe though…Will? Will you take the kid's sword and see if it's the real thing?"

Will Scarlet walked over to Excalibur and grasped its hilt. Closing his eyes, he flipped it into his hands as he tested for balance. Shiro watched in curiosity as Will examined, tossed and weighed the holy sword.

"What's he doing?"

"Well, dear, this is THE Will Scarlet you're seeing, remember? I haven't seen him ever goof up identification of any weapon. He's got a natural knack for it."

"So he's like a weaponsmaster something?"

"Something like that. C'mon, honey. Let's go and see what John's doing," Marian called to Robin, who nodded to her and turned to Shiro.

"I'm going ahead with Marian to gather the rest of the men. Will'll take you to our hideout."

With that, the two sprinted away. Shiro watched them for a moment, and then he turned his attention back to Will, who continued to flip the sword back and forth in his hands. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, the rugged man dropped the blade onto the ground.

"About thirty five and a half inches long, four and three-fourth inches wide."

"That's right – how did you know without a ruler - "

"Blade's made out of the same materials that Sherwood's arrows are made from. Perfect balance and a razor sharp edge. Almost weightless as it can be easily wielded in one or both hands. Yup, this is the real thing," Will replied as he broke into a rare smile. "Sorry to doubt you there, kid, but we've been getting so much shit lately, with all the deaths and destruction we can't trust anyone at all. Period."

Handing Excalibur back to the redhead, Will hefted his longbow and placed it over his shoulders.

"C'mon. Let's go. Robin's probably waiting for us at the next intersection."

* * *

"You want me to go to England?" Sakura muttered. She couldn't believe her ears. 

"Indeed! Miss Mato, you cannot doubt your own magical potential. Coming from a line of very powerful magi, you do know about your background, right - "

The Tabula Rasa bleeped in annoyance. If it had eyes, it would probably have glared at Locke caustically.

"Ah, apologies. I shouldn't be speaking of such things. Anyways, what I want you to do… is to find something that's extremely valuable to you and bring it here. Anything'll do, really."

"Why?" Sakura asked curiously. She wasn't sure about the enigmatic philosopher's intentions. Seeing her hesitation, Locke smirked.

"Shiro's ran into unexpected trouble in England. Since I cannot go myself – to do so would be against my beliefs, I'm going to send you in my stead. Plus, it'd be no good, since you need both a being from the current reality – I.E. You, Shirou, Rin, Ilya, and such and a heroic spirit to use the nodal fragments. Besides, I sense heroic qualities within you.

Again, Miss Mato, I apologize to thrust upon you this random option, but we really don't have a choice. I believe you are up to the task. What remains is whether or not you trust yourself enough to be up to it."

Sakura gasped in surprise. She never thought this man would see her as someone who was actually important. She had always been Sakura. Plain, old, Sakura. Always playing second fiddle to the universe.

"Please give me a moment," she called out as she rushed into her room. She had mixed feelings regarding this. She wasn't sure of herself, and she certainly didn't understand why she was excitedly going through her drawers to find something to complete Locke's request. Was it because she really wanted to be a hero? Was it because Shiro was in danger? Was it so that she could be with Shiro? Over the years, her feelings for Shiro have intensified. How many times did she want to tell him she loved him!

And yet, Shiro had eyes for only one person. That was Saber. Whatever feelings he had for Sakura cannot be compared for his feelings for the petite blonde. Sakura dug her way to the bottom of the drawer and found nothing that she could count as being special to her.

_I want something that would represent Shiro…Something that would represent those qualities that I love._

Suddenly, an idea flashed into her mind as Sakura realized what she was looking for. Quickly sprinting out of the house, she dashed to the place where she first saw Shiro – the Archery Dojo. On that sunny afternoon, he was repeatedly jumping over a pole. The stubborn sight made her laugh, but she also admired the foolhardy boy for his determination in trying to complete a hopeless task.

She found the location easily. The dojo was still largely the same. The yellow paint was cracked and peeling, but she felt an aura of familiarity as she unscrewed the stick.

_Perfect. _

Sprinting back into the kitchen, she presented the item to John Locke, who blinked in surprise.

"What's this, Miss Mato?"

"Professor, this is my choice."

Locke grabbed the pole and it flashed around his hand for a moment, and then he returned it back to her.

"I am going to open up a second portal and land you in England. When you have materialized, grasp your object firmly and make a wish. Someone will be there to help you. Bear in mind, that once you have materialized, I will not be able to communicate with you. Do you have any questions before I send you off?"

"Who is this someone?"

"He'll be the man of your dreams," Locke laughed, seeing Sakura blush. "No, to be fairly honest, I don't know. But he'll be someone that you could depend on to help Shiro. Now, any more questions?"

Sakura shook her head. She was afraid and excited at the same time. Seeing her reaction, Locke gently patted her on the back before snapping his fingers. The Tabula Rasa blinked and a small circular disk of light appeared on the floor.

"No questions? Good. Alright. Godspeed!"

The last thing Sakura saw was Locke's smiling face as she faded away. Her senses became dulled and unfocused as the ether of magic wafted around her. Her vision faded; she was losing her sense of self and her very being seemed to be melting away. Panicked, she tried to scream, but no words came out.

_Professor!!_ She silently thought._What's happening to me?_

_This is what dimensional travel feels like, _said a small voice in her head as she breathed a sigh of relief. _Soon, you'll be yourself again. Don't worry. It's a normal thing. Just go find Shiro. Need I remind you that the fate of the world rests on your tiny little -__**BEEP**__ - can't you let an old professor make jokes for once without being interrupted? Sakura, Excuse me. I need to rewrite my ah, "Noble Phantasm." Half a second._

_Wait! You didn't even tell me where Shiro was!_

_Well, shoot, why you didn't ask _– Locke's response was suddenly cut off as Sakura regained her senses. Her body once again solid, Sakura surveyed her surroundings. It was evening, and the moon was just climbing into the skies. She was in the ruins of some manor house – judging from the ripped tapestries and the broken glass windows. From out the windows, she saw a wasteland, a land devastated by shadows and darkness. The only thing she heard was the howl of the wind as it breezed by, laughing at her and laughing at the world. An acrid smell lingered in the air.

Sakura gripped the stick tightly and closed her eyes. She was here for a reason. Having had no spellcasting experience, she wasn't even sure how this was supposed to work, but she figured as long as she followed instructions she should be alright. Just what did she want as a wish? She closed her eyes.

"I wish…" Sakura gently whispered to no one in particular. "For a knight in shining armor. I wish for someone who was gentle, kind, and determined like Shiro, who was always willing to try and never giving up."

Slightly embarrassed, she plunged the stick into the ground. Silently chiding herself for not making a more heroic wish, like for someone who was powerful, Sakura silently waited. The yellow stick in her hands glowed briefly as she held her breath, but when nothing happened, she continued.

"I wish for someone who will be devoted to me. I wish that I can find someone who will return my feelings back to me."

The yellow stick glowed brighter as its warm light temporarily banished the darkness and Sakura continued speaking.

"I wish for someone whom I can show my own feelings to. I wish that I can find someone who accepts me for who I am, and loves me."

A brilliant shower of light engulfed Sakura as she unconsciously yelped in surprise. A torrent of golden light poured out from the spot she was standing and dissipated as the wooden stick in her hands was consumed. The room returned to its original dark, silent state. She held her breath and waited tensely for something to happen, for someone to show up.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing is happening. Words cannot describe Sakura's disappointment and her grief as something inside of her threatened to burst. She had her hopes up for a moment, but …

_Was this all a cruel joke? _

Sakura sniffed. She was so disappointed. Was it her fault? Was it the fact that she was so inept at everything that she can't even handle a simple summoning like such? The only things she heard were her own small sobs and her tears dropping on the ground.

_I can hear my tears falling onto the ground. Drip, drop; Drip, drop; Drip, drop; is this it? Am I doomed to be alone forever? Shiro, I can't understand you…Why can you not see how I feel about you? Are you blind?_

As if the roof agreed with her, it wheezed in sympathy. Drip, drop, click; drip, drop, splat, groan, click. Splat, scree, splat, scree, click, drip. Sakura took some solace in the strange noises the roof was making. It made her feel better; it felt as if she wasn't alone. Yet she knew the feeling of loneliness all too well.

Scree, scree, scree, scree, the roof screeched as a piece of it dropped gently onto her head. Surprised, Sakura looked up. Even in the dim evening light, she noticed a crack forming. Suddenly, it broke open as something heavy fell through and plummeted in front of her. Thinking it was a piece of rubble, Sakura edged forward to get a better look. To her bewilderment, the "rubble" flipped itself into an upright position and started dusting itself off.

"Alas, I must work on my entrance."

The acrid smell in the air before was gone, replaced by a faint fragrance of roses. The speaker carried himself with an air of eloquence. He was wearing a dark green set of tights, complete with leather arm guards and long combat boots. His half gauntlets were grey like the half-dozen belts and his long leather chaps, which were bound tightly to his muscular body. Unlike Berserker, however, he was well-toned but slim. His movements were reminiscent of a leopard as there was something deeply sleek about the way he moved. The stranger knelt down and with one fluid motion swept out a blooming albeit slightly crumpled red rose and presented it to her.

"Greetings, m'lady! A fairer being never have I encountered. Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, at your service!"

Sakura was blushing furiously. She had never received flowers from anyone before. She was also not used to someone calling her beautiful.

"May I have the honor of learning your most beauteous name, m'lady?"

"Sakura. Sakura Mato."

Blue eyes met gold as the two gazed at the other..

* * *

Shiro breathed heavily as he tried to catch to Will. The outlaw's stride was long and he was having trouble keeping up, even with reinforcement. 

"Hurry up, kid! Camp's only ten minutes' sprint from here!"

"Stop calling me kid, Will!" Shiro barked as he put more energy into his limbs. Will smirked.

"Kid, you gotta man up. Like I said, shit's gonna be happening soon, and you can't half-ass anything. Good job though, the camp's just up ahead."

Gritting his teeth, Shiro ran forward. After the hours of torturous jogging, it was extremely satisfying to see the campfire blinking in the distance. A giant of a man strode towards them, a huge grin on his face.

"Will! Little John was getting worried. He thought you guys had been am-bushed by the bad guys."

"Yeah, John. Nice to see you too. Is there still food left?"

"Yes! Little John saved two bowls for you guys. He knows you guys will be fa-mi-shed after running really far."

The outlaw camp had a warm and friendly atmosphere to it. Most of the outlaws were either talking, eating, or resting as they gathered around the fire. Will soon excused himself, explaining that he was on sentry duty with Little John. As Shiro approached the campfire, he found Robin waiting for him.

"Here you are," the guardian of Sherwood cheerfully handed him a spoon and a steaming bowl of stew. "It was Marian's turn to cook today. This is absolutely delicious."

Shiro took a sip. He liked the spicy taste to it. He thanked Robin and wolfed down the food. It was as if he hasn't eaten for an entire day. After replacing his bowl, he sat back down with the Merry Men and joined in their fellowship. Flagons of ale and cider were passed around as tales were swapped and jokes were told. Robin was an especially skilled storyteller as Shiro soon became enchanted by his words.

"So, you see…then the sheriff was passed out, roaring drunk, and I…"

A round of uproarious laughter. Friar Tuck cheered drunkenly as he poured himself a fourth tankard of ale.

"Marian? Should someone stop him? Won't he die from alcohol poisoning?" Shiro quizzically asked the girl sitting next to him, who was snug in Robin's lap and playing with a loose thread on Robin's shirt.

"Nah, dear, not really," Marian lazily replied. "Tuck can outdrink pretty much anyone. Plus, the ale's safer than water most of the time."

"…took out the rest of the king's guards and wheeled the wagon into the …"

Shiro watched in fascination as friar Tuck downed yet another tankard of ale.

"Marian, are you sure he's –"

"Shh. You're missing out on the good part."

Whatever the "good part" was, Shiro never found out. At that moment, a shrill whistle rang out in the air as everyone tensed up. Instantly, the camp was silent. Marian and Robin sprang to their feet as Robin motioned everyone. Two small specks can be seen as torches flickered wildly in the evening. They rushed out from the camp to meet the pair.

"Robin!" Will's hoarse voice called out. He and John were running at a brisk pace towards the camp. Behind them, a sea of torches can be seen as they were about half a mile behind them.

"John's stirred up shit. He shot some knight's horse. And now we've got a bunch of government men after us!"

"It wasn't Little John's fault!" John proclaimed loudly. "Robin tells Little John to always "Shoot first, ask questions after!"

"John, dear? You got that backwards." Marian nudged Little John as the men chuckled. Robin sighed and slapped his forehead.

"Buddy, she's right. You got that backwards again. And Will. For all your soldiering experiences, why didn't you extinguish your torch first, and THEN run?"

"….Shit. Haven't thought about that," Will muttered to himself as he glanced back nervously. The flames were only about two bowshots away and everyone could hear the clamoring.

"I'll handle this," Robin said. His expression lightened up as he watched his two downcast friends. "Don't worry. I've gotten us into worse trouble before, remember?"

Gesturing to everyone to keep their weapons down but at the ready, Robin leisurely strode forth to meet Little John's pursuer, who turned out to be a man in his late thirties. His short, cropped blond hair matched his livery, which was a hand grasping a golden cup. The knight was wearing silvery platemail and he held a two-handed mace in his hands. Mentioning for the rest of the warriors to stop, he walked towards Robin.

"Ho! Goodman. I am Sir Percival, and I am looking for a pair of thieving bandits who murdered my faithful steed without just cause. I see they are in your camp. Please release them to me so justice can be upheld!"

"Good sir," Robin replied. "You see, I can't do that. These men are part of my merry band, and I do not lord over them or control them in any means."

"In that case, Goodman, I seek to duel the two honorably in order to avenge my steed. Step aside please, and let me pass. As you see, we outnumber you, and clearly we have the advantage."

Percival's knights cheered as they raised their weapons and banged on their shields.

"But sir, you were trespassing in my lands…at night! My friends were being merciful, as they are both excellent shots. They could have peppered all of you with arrows if they wished, but Little John here only shot your horse as a warning. Surely, you can see that it was the rightful thing to do, and therefore justice?"

"I followeth not your logic - " Percival began to speak, but Marian impatiently cut him off.

"Can you please drop the high English? You're speaking to a bunch of normal people here, dear."

"As you wish, madam," Percival coughed. "As I was saying…"

Percival's words were suddenly interrupted as Robin tackled him and knocked them both onto the ground. A flux of shadows was at the place where he was standing five minute ago.

"Dark Arts!" Percival bellowed. "How dare you defile the lands of the Lady with your filthy magic?"

Raising his mace high above his head, he was about to jump on Robin when one of the knights broke ranks and held him back.

"Sir Percival, stop! Can't you see? We've bigger issues to fry at the moment! If that man hasn't knocked you out of the way you would have been on top of that!"

Percival paused in mid-motion as he withdrew his mace and watched the circle. A strange, giant shape was taking place. Even the most unversed in the magical arts knows what was happening: something bad was about to happen.

"More works of the unholy Grail! Ready yourselves, men!"

Turning to Robin and his band of outlaws, he knelt, with his weapon at rest.

"My humblest apologies for mistaken your good intentions."

Grinning, Robin pulled him back up.

"No problems, friend. Let us battle together - "

"Honey? I hate to interrupt your manly mansome speeches, but there's more on our plates?" Marian shouted to Robin as both of them turned to watch at the direction that she was pointing at. More fluxes appeared on the ground. Eight, nine, ten, eleven. Robin's heart sank as he realized that this was going to be difficult. He wasn't used to direct battles and engagements, preferring to always operate on his favor. Luckily for him, Percival was in his element.

"Galahad! Take the left flank," ordering the knight who just restrained him five minutes ago, Percival's clear voice rang out in the night.

"WHAT ISH?! AHHHHHHHHHH! ROHBIN! WE ISH GOING TO FIGHT?"

"Yes, Tuck. We're going to fight."

* * *

"Tor! Form a shield wall and cover our lightly armored allies! Lionel, Oswin, set pikes on our right! Garel, send someone back to the main camp to alert Lancelot. Everyone else, ready your weapons, pray for the Lady's blessings. Battle is upon us!" 

The first of the monstrosities appeared. A good ten feet tall, it was a gigantic humanoid with a large club in its hands. With a deafening bellow to the heavens, it charged the line of knights.

"Ogres! Tor, break that shield wall and engage it in fishnet formation!"

To Shiro, the battle was chaotic as he was momentarily stunned. He wasn't sure what to do, seeing the eleven ogres rampaging through. Knights and outlaw fought side by side as they surrounded the monsters, hacking away at them with sword and spear. Most of the weapons bounced off their thick hides ineffectively, but here and there a few made their marks as they bit into the ogre's flesh. Seeing Sir Tor's group was the closest, Shiro ran two steps towards them, intending to help them, and suddenly remembered that he didn't have a weapon. Cursing, he dashed away from battle, back towards the main camp.

Excalibur was still at where he left it. Breathing a sigh of relief and promising to himself that he'll never let it out of his sight again, he picked it up. The sword felt right in his hands, but it was still icy cold. Intending to join the fight, Shiro ran back towards the action. It was then he noticed a lone figure standing on top of the hill.

She was facing the battle below with a completely apathetic mask on her face. Dark energies blazed from the tip of her sword as she directed those energies towards the monsters…which seemed to be fusing their cut flesh back together. Her hair, once shimmering blond in the moonlight took on a darker hue. Her vibrant green eyes now red, and her silvery armor stained in the deepest shade of obsidian, Saber directed the battle below.

Without a word, Shiro ran towards her as he began to scale the cliffs. He was going to talk to Saber or else die trying.

The battle was not going well. The Ogres were simply too big to be injured by their weapons. As Robin and Marian fought back to back, defending each other from a trio of giants, Galahad joined them in their fighting.

"Robin! This isn't going to work. We're barely scratching them!"

"I know, sir knight! We've got an idea though. I need you to hold them off. I'm calling some of my merry men!"

"What are you going to do?" Galahad yelled back, dodging the blow from an ogre and thrusting forward with his spear.

"Marian, dear, fetch me my pouch please!"

Marian sighed as she ran towards where they left the extra cache of items.

"Honey, you can't be serious about this…" She muttered as she tossed the small bag to her lover. Robin ignored her complaint and whistled. In a flash, Will, Little John and the drunken friar Tuck joined him as they stood in a straight line. "This is going to be embarrassing, isn't it?"

"Yup," Will responded. Sighing. "God. I don' t know why he makes us do this shit when we can just go about this like regular people. It's not like the lines are special anyways."

"John likes saying them lines!"

"Alright, guys. Now, are we going to take the fight to them, or what?"

"Right!" The group cried in unison.

Percival cursed his luck as he barely blocked a huge sweep from an ogre. With the five men gone from the formation, there were immediate holes in his lines. The monsters took the advance to crush yet another one of his knights with a two-handed slash.

"Robin. What in the Lady's name are you doing," he shouted angrily.

"Just trust me!" Robin yelled back as he held a small white horn up high. The faint scent of white wine can be smelt emanating from it. "Wind!"

"Fire!" Marian shouted as she stood next to Robin, thrusting forth her own item – a small goblet, its inner contents crimson with old red wine.

"Water!" Cried Little John enthusiastically as he hefted his huge beer barrel and dragged a reluctant Will forward. Will sighed, but nonetheless took out his wineskin, full of sweet mead and roared "Earth!" Behind them, the drunken friar piped as he hoisted his huge tankard. In a dramatic voice, he shouted out in his sonorous voice as the battlefield echoed.

"**ALE!!"**

With that cry, the group dumped the contents of their drinking vessels in unison, posing dramatically as knights and outlaw fought for their lives. Everyone paused for a moment and stared. The five of them were flexed in classical Greco-Roman poses and wouldn't be out of place in an art display somewhere. A few of the knights chuckled as they shook their heads, returning to their respective battles. As for Galahad, he was half convinced that they were mad. When nothing appears to be happening, he derisively snorted.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Very, very funny. Sir Robin, what did you think that would have done, summon "Sir Planet" or to some similar effect?"

Galahad rapidly spun around on his lance as he turned to face his opponent. He needed to concentrate. Anticipating his opponent's movements, he lunged forward. To his surprise, he heard the ogre roar out in pain. Turning around, he narrowly avoided being swept by a huge tree branch as his jaw dropped in surprise.

The trees were alive. It was as if the forest responded to Robin's call. The vegetation itself attacked the unnatural creatures with root, leaf and branch.

**"As a matter of fact, yes!"** Robin and his band shouted. They were standing on top of a particularly stout oak. Its leaves brimmed with energy as distinct shapes popped out from its sides. First arms, then knobby joints, then hands. Rapidly clenching and unclenching its fists, the tree posed ridiculously with the men still on top. Its voice was strangely cheerful as its leaves and branches seemed to command the other trees as they surrounded each of the monsters and assisted the humans.

**  
"By all your powers combined…I am MOBILE FORTRESS: SHERWOOD!!" **

"About damn time you got to here," muttered Will. "I didn't want to stick in that stupid flexed position for much longer. People were giving me funny looks."

"**Mobile Fortress Sherwood does not like stale wine!"**

"Yeah, whatever. You're here now, and that's what matters," Robin grinned as he hugged the treeman. "Two barrels of firewater if we all get out of this alive."

"**Agreed." **

With that, The "Mobile Fortress" smirked and casually smacked a Ogre. It flew like a ragdoll as it crumpled under the wooden warrior's mighty blow. The knights cheered. Some were laughing at the sight. Galahad himself wanted to laugh too, but he controlled himself as he ran forward to dispatch his opponent. However, to his surprise, the Ogre's wounds closed. Something from one of the cliffs was regenerating its wounds.

The battle has just begun.

* * *

Saber watched the battle impassionately. 

So far, the battle was still in her favor. She had lost three of the eleven beasts conjured by the Grail, but her enemies have lost at least threescore men. Even with that mob of moving trees, the battle was still going her way.

_Yes. Kill. Kill them all. Use their souls to power yourself. You can do anything you want._

She fed more of the life-spawning dark energy from the Rubicon into the monsters. However, this motion was detected by one of the knights, who waved and pointed at her from below. A hailstorm of arrows followed, but all bounced harmlessly away from the arcane barrier the Rubicon offered her. The knight with the short blond hair snarled and leapt on top of an ogre's club, and it flung him high into the air. Saber watched in fascination as he agilely rotated in midair and landed not too far from where she was at.

Percival charged into the clearing where she stood, his mace held high in both of his hands. Seeing her, his jaw dropped in surprise.

"My…my liege?"

The only answer he received was a sharp slash towards his chest. Diving out of the way, Percival brought his mace up to his chest – just in time to parry a second blow from Saber.

_Kill him. He wasn't here to defend Camelot. _

Ignoring the monsters below her, Saber turned to face her opponent. The Rubicon glowed eagerly as it refocused its energies. Without her source of healing, the ogres quickly fell to the combined actions of the disciplined knights and the minions of Sherwood.

"My liege, Arturia?! My king?" Percival screamed desperately as he parried yet a third blow with his two-handed blunt. Tears were streaming down his face as he realized that the lady in front of him was their beloved ruler, who even now attacked him ruthlessly.

"My liege, why are you doing this? Have you been possessed? Have you forgotten the vows we made to you on the Table Round?"

Saber shook her head. Emotionlessly, she stabbed at Pervical who sidestepped out of the way. The blond knight was fast, but he cannot keep on the defensive forever. The next attack tore a large gash into his side as he staggered slightly and continued, his mace still in a defensive posture.

"My liege, our lives and blades are still at your command. Do not make us dishonor ourselves by taking up arms against you!"

Another slash, another sidestep. Percival wasn't sure how long he'll be able to keep this up, but he would die before giving up.

Below the two, Robin has dispatched an ogre by himself as he deftly slashed its jugular and watched it topple onto the ground. Behind him, Marian and her group filled another with arrows. It roared and tried to charge at them, but Galahad swept at it with his lance and it fell, where it was instantly torn apart by the trees. Nodding to the younger knight in satisfaction, Robin looked up…

…And he winced at the sight. A bloodied and battered Percival was dodging strikes from a young woman clad entirely in black.

"Shit, Robin. That guy's getting his ass handed to him," Will commented to Robin, who was pulling back his bow and squinting with one eye. "We should go help him."

"I know. I know, but we can't shoot at him. We might hit Percival. We can't really do anything. None of us can fly…"

Sighing, he put his longbow down.

"At this stage…we can't really tell."

Meanwhile, Shiro had climbed up the cliff and was even now watching the duel. He saw Saber and Percival fight. Yet he wasn't sure what to do. He knew that Saber was no longer on the "good side," but he was unable to bring it to herself to strike her. Anxiety gnawed at him as he didn't even know which side he was supposed to root for. On one hand, he wants Percival to win. On the other hand, he hopes Saber wouldn't be hurt from this battle…

Percival was a skilled combatant, but his dueling skills were severely hampered by the fact that he was unwilling to attack the girl who still commanded his loyalty and admiration. Now, he was bleeding from no less than eighteen different locations. a particularly nasty gash on his forehead made him slightly light-headed. But he fought on. A defensive battle he knew he was destined to lose.

"My liege! Can you hear me? Do you not remember the dreams we all had?"

Saber looked at him coldly. Suddenly, her expression softened for a millisecond. It was gone as soon as it came. Hopeful, Percival yelled again. The action was painful, but he knew it was worth it.

"My liege! Remember the Lady of the Lake? Remember Camelot? Remember us, your knights?"

Saber slowed slightly in her advance. She paused as her sword dropped limply to the ground.

"My liege! Do you remember … the ideals we once fought for?" Percival smiled. He was feeling dizzy from the loss of blood, yet he continued.

Ideals.

Ideals. Something about that word rang in Saber's mind.

_Ignore it. He is trying to trick you._

No.

She remembered. She remembered all the things she and her knights worked for. She remembered the dreams they had of a peaceful realm. Suddenly, her mind was clear. The power of the Rubicon was demolished and shoved back to a far corner in the back of her mind. Once again, she was Saber, Arturia, the Once and Future King. The darkness on her armor and hair faded and once again a strand of hair perked up and her plate mail returned to their silvery coloration.

"Percival?"

"My liege!" Percival joyously proclaimed as he saw his ruler's eyes turn from blood red back to their usual shade of green. He ran forth towards her, but he was stopped as Saber lifted her hand and told him to pause.

"Percival. Stay away. I am not myself," Saber calmly spoke. She felt so empty. So dishonorable after all the things she has done.

"I am not worthy of being called your liege. In a moment of weakness, I have turned against my ideals and dreams. This weapon I hold right now…controls me. I cannot overcome it. Percival. Leave. I fear we do not have much time left."

"Nonsense, my liege. We will help you overcome - " Percival ended in mid-sentence as he noticed the sudden change in her demeanor. She looks pained, as if something was struggling inside of her. The darkness slowly returned as shadows danced and weaved around her.

"No…no, Percival. Leave. Get…away…"

Pulling the Rubicon out, Saber slashed at him. She had enough control of herself to make it miss, but only by half a feet. Due to the force of her strike, the Rubicon was deeply thrust into the ground.

"My liege!" Percival shouted. "You can fight it."

His words echoed across the enchanted woods as Saber struggled, her hands inching closer to the sword. She opened and closed her hand several times, but finally closed her mailed fist over it.

"Flee, Percival. I am lost." Saber shook her head sadly as she pulled the sword back into a combat position. "I am bound to it because of my sins and guilt. I am no longer the knight I once was."

Percival tried to speak, but his voice came out as a gurgle as the Rubicon pierced his chest. His mace dropped from his powerless fingers as he collapsed. He wheezed in pain as he crumpled on the ground. Saber stepped over his gasping figure, ready to deliver the finishing blow. The part of her that was still Saber could only watch in heart-wrenching pain as she was about to become the executioner for one of her own knights. The Rubicon whistled downward…

And was parried by another sword. A clang rang out across the clearing as Shiro Emiya intercepted the blow.

"Shiro?"

"Saber! You can't do it! I won't let you kill him!" Shiro screamed. He had finally picked a side.

"This isn't you. This is that sword you're holding. The Saber I know and love will never do such a thing!"

"Shiro. Leave. This is a knight's battle. I can still fight!" Percival called out weakly from the ground.

"Are you joking? Your chest is bleeding!"

As if he just noticed that the wound was there and it was painful, Percival stared.

"Tis only a flesh wound."

"…"

Shiro could make no comment in regards to the knight's words. A coughing fit racked Percival's body as he spat out a small amount of blood.

"Alright, sir. You may be right. Tis more than just a flesh wound."

Saber laughed. A dark, sinister laugh. Her malevolent voice chilled Shiro to the bone.

"How touching…boy. What are you going to do? Fight her? I mean, fight me? I'm in control of her body. Look at you. You don't even know how to hold that sword properly…"

"Maybe so. But I'll stop you, and I know I can! Shiro Emiya never backs down from anything, and he isn't about to do so now!"

"Shiro…" Percival whispered to him on the ground. "Do not die here with me. I go soon to the Lady of the Lake."

"No. I made the mistake of letting someone die already. I'm not making that same mistake again." Shiro calmly replied. Seeing his resolve, Percival smiled weakly.

"You are a true knight, Shiro Emiya." The knight's breathing grew fainter and fainter as the world threatened to fade out. Saber laughed again.

"Pitiful. You want to challenge me with that? Excalibur?"

"Yes," Shiro responded. There was such fire in his eyes that it made even the possessed Saber take a step back. Roaring a battlecry, he smashed at Saber with Excalibur. She easily dodged his clumsy attack. Shiro may have been a decent combatant, but he stood no chance against Saber's swordsmanship. With one single sweep, she knocked Shiro to the ground and Excalibur from his hands. Laughing, she gestured and knocked Shiro onto a black, horizontally raise platform. Chains shot from the ground, binding him in place. She moved back and began to advance from three hundred paces away.

"Prepare to see my power. See how I can twist and bend reality as I see fit? I feed upon guilt and dishonor. These chains that are binding you are the same that are binding her to me…"

Shiro said not a word, but instead continued his struggles. Black ichor splattered onto his face as he screamed in pain. But he continued to try to break away from the chain.

"Still going at it? Those chains are unbreakable. Why bother?"

Saber began running at a brisk pace, intent on running him through. She was fifty paces away from him.

"Because," Shiro gritted his teeth as he once again unsuccessfully pulled at the chains that bound him in place. She was now thirty pieces away.

"I don't believe in quitting." Looking Saber straight in the eye, he answered. As their eyes met, he tried to let his emotions and feelings seep through. Her eyes widened for a moment, as if she heard him. But now, at twenty paces, she had built up too much momentum to stop. The Rubicon shone with unholy power in the moonlight.

"This may be the last chance I have with you…so I'll tell you it now."

Fifteen paces.

"Saber, I love you."

Ten paces.

"And I still believe in you…believe in your dreams."

Saber felt a part of her, the part that belonged to her reawaken and receive power. She concentrated as she shook her subconscious, trying to purge the demon from within. She sensed herself. She also sensed the Rubicon. It was ….afraid?

_I am your master. _It whispered. _I am your master. I am your master. Your master your master your master._

I'm not going to give up! She shouted silently.

_I am your master! You will bend to my will!_

No.

Tears freely fell from Saber's face as she broke free. Nodding, she saw the lightened up expression in Shiro's eyes and shared with her love a moment of empathy and mutual understanding. Something in his voice freed her from the malicious powers of the sword. Now, she was Saber again. And she will do what she need to do. Just as Merlin did the very same for her.

_Shiro. I may not be able to save myself. But I will save you. _

With all of her strength, she used her own momentum as she took the cursed sword…

And reversed the direction of the blade. Shiro screamed. A deep, hellish howl as he watched Saber plunge the Rubicon into her own chest. She bowled into Shiro as blood splattered over him and the bonds suddenly disappeared. Like hissing steam, the dark energy left Saber as it tried to find a different host. Both of them fell onto the ground.

Shiro was still screaming. Saber threw aside the Rubicon, which glowed with a black aura and slowly picked up Excalibur. She was serene and accepting as she steadied herself, blood flowing from her deep wound.

"Foolish girl…" The Rubicon whispered. "What are you going to do?"

"Destroy you." Closing her eyes, Saber concentrated. Excalibur shone in the night air as its light was fierce. The Rubicon whispered again, but this time, it was unsure.

"In your state, you know I cannot be destroyed…"

"Perhaps," Saber smirked. A confidence smile appeared on her bloodstained lips. "But nothing prevents me from trying."

Holding Excalibur with both of her hands, she closed her eyes. In front of her was the solidified version of all of their wishes and dreams. She was facing one who wants to destroy it. That was unforgivable. Excalibur glowed with transcendental energy as a beam of light surged forth.

"**Excalibur – the Sword of Promised Victory!!" **

A thunderous explosion occurred as the Rubicon flashed dangerously. Its dark energies were overcome by the light generated by Excalibur. Bit by bit, the cursed weapon began disintegrating. The gemstones cracked as the rune writings became incoherent. Shrieking, it vanished from sight as Saber dropped Excalibur. With a small thud, she fell to the ground. Her eyes were closed and her lips were ashen.

"SABER!!" Crawling over to her side, Shiro wept as he took her in his arms. To his great relief, her green eyes fluttered open as he called her name.

"Shiro." Saber whispered, smiling weakly. She took a gauntleted hand and gently caressed his cheek.

"Don't cry. I am… alright."

The gauntleted hand was stained crimson.

"No…. SABER, NO! YOU …." Shiro was no longer capable of being coherent as he buried his face in Saber's hair. For once, his optimism died. She was cold. Colder than Excalibur. The light in her eyes were fading. Her breathing was labored and by God…there was so much blood…

So much blood…

"Shh. Shiro. I am alright…really…I just …need…rest…"

The gauntleted hand slowly went limp as it fell onto the ground.

Shiro's despairing wail was soul-rending as he unleashed his agony. But nothing he say or do could make his true love reopen her eyes. Saber's outline grew hazy. Tiny glitters of golden light appeared and faded away as her body faded away into the night air. The hilt of Excalibur winked in the starlight and a gentle whisper can be heard as those shining sparks that were once Arturia Pendragon, The Once and Future King vanished towards some unknown horizon.

_Avalon…All is a distant utopia…_


	9. Onward!

Author's notes: Some bits are not historically accurate - you'll see why when you get to it. This is the first portion of the Babylon arc. A second update is coming soon, so some parts will NOT make sense.

Yet.

Thank you for reading.

* * *

"So, Archer…Since we've got time, and I don't feel like sleeping yet, why don't you tell me about yourself?"

Rin poked at the fire with a stick as the sorceress and her servant sat facing each other. She honestly didn't know Archer was a great cook, especially after he generated a balanced dinner from her field rations. The Servant, however, was completely silent as he watched the kettle intently, willing it to boil.

_It was as if he didn't want to talk about his past_, Rin thought. The prospect only made her more curious as she sensed Archer turn icy. Trying to figure out a way to warm him back up, Rin continued.

"In the last Heaven's Feel…Archer, I don't know if you remember this, seeing how you were summoned without complete memories. Do you remember how we met?"

"Mhm." Archer replied, his eyes still fixed on the kettle.

"You know, arguments aside, you were much more talkative mere moments ago when you insisted on pointing out the errors in my pathfinding skills," Rin continued. She could tell that he did indeed remember their initial encounter, judging from his sardonic smile. He literally had a smashing entrance – plowing right through the roof.

"When I summoned you, I had my doubts. Archer, you aren't really like an Archer at all, are you? You're more of the …" Rin smiled as she looked at him. The shadows danced on her former Servant's face, outlining his chiseled face. "…Jack-of-all-trades class, if there is such a thing."

"Mhm."

"You were sort of rude at first…but for someone so outwardly cold and ruthless, you sure had a soft side, don't you? I mean, you cleaned up my living room after that mess you made. And you can cook and make tea. If I didn't know better I would have guessed you to be a maidservant or something."

She wasn't sure why she felt slightly bashful, but Rin kept on speaking in order to fuel the conversation.

"Mhm."

"You taught me a lot, Archer. I had knowledge from texts, but you gave me real-world tips with things like mana management."

"Mhm."

"I see you still have that same attitude…Maybe we should save this discussion for a later time?"

"Mhm."

"…Do you even know who you are?"

"Mhm."

"…Archer, are you even listening to me?!"

"Mhm," Archer grunted as he took the kettle off the fire and quickly poured some water into a small teapot. The soft light of the flames covered the pair as Rin sighed. She pulled her thin blanket over herself. The Arabian night air was frigid. Archer opened the lid and wafted the tea towards his nose. The fragrance of red tea filled the small cavern.

"We've still got a long way to go, so we should be getting some rest. Tea?"

Nodding, Rin took the cup and slowly sipped it. The hot tea was scalding but pleasant.  
The two drank in silence as they were comforted by this moment of silence. After they finished, Archer doused the fire with the rest of the contents in the kettle as the fire gave a small hiss and disappeared. Murmuring a small "g'night," Rin yawned and pulled her blanket over her head. Soon, her gentle snoring could be heard.

Archer, however, wasn't really tired. Reclining against the other side of the cavern, he pulled out a small locket and stared at it. The ruby crystal was cold to the touch. He looked at the locket, then to the girl next to him, and gave a little sigh. Pulling off his coat, he gently pulled it over the sleeping mage.

* * *

Captain Assur of the Royal Army was half asleep. He hasn't had one bit of rest since yesterday, and the men in his unit were drained. Still, they continued, determined to do their duty. Standing at the walls looking for nonexistent enemies was a boring job, but someone had to do it.

Only a few hours ago, the worst of the blazes were put out by the magi of the city. Most of the fires are now out, with small portions burning here and there. The northern wall is now almost nonexistent as the once mighty barrier has been blown to bits at one location, and the rest melted like slag. Commerce and trade districts were by far heavily damaged, and temple district was entirely choked with refugees. Order was virtually nonexistent as children screamed and ran around the streets while distraught mothers looked for their babies. Husbands called out to wives as lovers searched for one another. Uruk was utter chaos.

Assur yawned. His soldiers echoed him. Right now, the chain of command was broken. He had no idea who to go to or what to do. He had his signet ring – three triangles stacked together in an equilateral fashion with the center triangle glowing gold, and that ring will grant him and his soldiers entrance anywhere to the city, except for the palace itself. Not that he needs to go there anyways – or did he? The palace has had no lights on since his king hurried to the library. No one has seen Gilgamesh since. While he was concerned for his ruler, Assur didn't really care to wonder at this point – he is too tired. All he knew was to stay put and make sure the people stay safe. There were still fires to put out, houses to rebuild, and lives to reforge. He heard a clunk as he turned around. One of his soldiers had fallen asleep at the watch. He grimaced, but decided to ignore the action. Now is not the time to be a disciplinarian. He leaned on his spear. A nap sounds good at the moment. He closed his eyes…

"CAPTAIN!!"

Assur opened his eyes groggily. A young man ran towards him, excitement on his face. One of his veterans snorted in disapproval.

"Slow down, kid. This isn't the time to be running or shouting."

"…So-sorry. But captain! I need to see the captain! Like, totally. It's like, important!"

"Can't you see the captain is resting? And you remember, recruit. When you speak to a superior officer, say "sir!"

"Um…like…alright." The recruit coughed as he took a couple of steps back and saluted.

"Sir, captain, sir! There is, sir, an old man, sir, with sir a sir ton sir of wrinkles sir! He, sir, calls himself, sir, some Up-something, sir!"

"…Drop the sir, please." Assur muttered. He was now wide awake.

"There's an old man, sir. He looks really really old, sir. He calls himself Up-something sir and had some warnings, sir."

"Utnapishtim? Describe him. Did you see him yourself?"

"Like, totally, sir! He had this huge long flowing white beard and he was dressed in these navy blue robes. He had a thin tiara on his head – circlet – whatever and there was this weird triangle pattern thing on it. He was like, really, really old, sir! He looks even older than you!"

"…Yes. That sounds like the old gentleman. Recruit, invite him in."

"I …ah…can't, sir. I think my lieutenant already told him to scram, sir."

"…he WHAT?"

"…Sir, is that bad, sir? The old man won't budge."

Assur placed his face into his palms.

"Yes, recruit. Now get your ass out there and invite that old man back. On second thought, stay here before you botch anything else. I'll go myself."

With that, he ran down the stairs towards the city gates. He hoped that he wasn't too late – Utnapishtim was not a pushover.

* * *

He was a hunter without arrows, a hound without teeth.

Lancer followed Gilgamesh as they dashed after Achilles. Their opponent was nimble as he leapt from sand dune to sand dune. Occasionally, a glimmer can be seen on his shield as the heroic spirits sprinted across the Babylonian desert.

"Och, Gilgaemesh! Ye realize I cannae help ye without me lance?"

"I'm well aware of that," snapped Gilgamesh as he leapt onto yet another mound of sand. "Right now, the objective is to catch that man in front of us."

"Do ye not think we coulda do it better if there were two o'us?" Lancer, who was slightly lagging behind shouted back. He was surprised at Gilgamesh's speed, among other things. Right now, his speed easily outstripped most riders, and even someone as agile as him was having trouble keeping up.

"Probably, but what are you going to do, fight without your prized Gae Bolg?"

The Greek hero in front of them has stopped in mid-stride. His shield flashing in the sunlight, he turned around and faced the heroic pair. Taking this moment to respond, Lancer smirked.

"Ay! CuChulainn cannae leave a comrade alone to nefarious tuilli like that one 'dere."

To his surprise, Gilgamesh turned around momentarily and – grinned – , what seems to be approval appearing on his face. Lancer rubbed his eyes. _Must be the sand_, he thought as he picked up his pace. _First that Tohsaka lassy stickin' around and now this…_

"The King of Heroes commends your stupidity. As a reward, you may select any weapon you so choose after we stop him and reach my city."

Gilgamesh walked forward, chain of heavens in his hands. The metallic chains clicked as he gestured towards his opponent.

"Alright, mongrel. Stop now and this can still go well for you."

"I don't think so, you pompous fool." Achilles replied. "I've done what I needed. The Grail no longer needs knowledge from the modern world. It has destroyed enough to know what will suffice. Your kingdom is next on our list."

"For what? So that you can have your wishes granted?" Sneered Gilgamesh as he pulled his sword, Enuma Elish along with its side. He knew that for some strange reason, he was unable to use the splitting star. However, it makes no real difference – it is still a mighty blade capable of smashing through most mundane and divine armor.

"Tell me, Achilles, How do you plan on destroying my city? For that matter, how do you plan on stopping me here?"

"Yah! Ye and what army?"

"As part of its logic, the Grail has already materialized enough miasma to destroy a portion of your walls. Along with a few of us, your city will fall, and you will be erased from reality."

"Ye be forgettin' us, laddie." Lancer huffed as he pulled himself in a fighting stance. He hoped to God that whatever barroom brawl techniques he knew from a long time ago was good enough.

_Lesee here…rabbit punchs…groin kicks…plenty of sand to throw in eyes…_

"Two heroic spirits. One weaponless, the other so arrogant as to not see his immediate downfall. Haha. I shall enjoy this…Oh, I shall enjoy this battle immensely."

Achilles' evil smile was chilling to see as he dropped his shield onto the ground. Immediately, a gigantic column of sand rose high into the air. Its force pushed Gilgamesh and Lancer back as magical energy howled all around them. A ghastly woman's voice can be heard in the middle of the desert sands.

"…What is this?!"

"_Sing, goddess, the rage of Achilles the son of Peleus,  
the destructive rage that sent countless pains on the Achaeans..."_

"King of Heroes. I ask you, what are the classical triad of a land-based army?"

"_Sing, goddess, the rage of Achilles the son of Peleus,  
the destructive rage that sent countless pains on the Achaeans..."_

The woman's voice now seemed to multiply around them as yet another voice appeared, then another, then another. Chrouslike they chanted the two lines, Achilles seemed to be in no hurry as the sand column became a full fledged tornado.

""_Many a brave soul did he send hurrying down to Hades_

_and many a hero did yield prey to dogs and vultures.."_

"Allow me to answer my question. Cavalry, Archery, and Infantry. Like in Heaven's feel, the Saber, Archer, and Rider were known as the three knights, so it is the case with warfare warfare."

_For Thetis, the goddess of silver feet tells him that he carries two sorts of destiny..._

"Oy! Can it, ye loud-mouthed hussy!" Lancer shouted angrily. The chanting was annoying him greatly. As for Gilgamesh, he did not like the way this was going, but the sandstorm was too strong for him to disrupt whatever Achilles was up to. He could only watch and curse silently as he realizes he has been drawn into a trap. The frenzied chorus grew stronger and stronger as Achilles waved his arms and a long sword materialized in his hands. Holding the short sword up high, he chanted.

"Either I waste away at home, and my life be long…"

"Will ye shut up?"

Achilles ignored Lancer and paused for a moment, contemplating his words.

"_Sing, goddess, the rage of Achilles the son of Peleus,  
the destructive rage that sent countless pains on the Achaeans..."_

"If …I stay here and fight beside the city of the Trojans,  
my return home is gone…"

A wistful expression appeared on his face, as if regretting something.

"Yet my fame shall be everlasting…"

"Och, fancy talk cannae fight - " Lancer's insult was cut short as Gilgamesh held his hand out and gestured at him to be quiet.

"_**Sing, goddess, the rage of Achilles the son of Peleus,  
the destructive rage that sent countless pains on the Achaeans..."**_

"Idiot. This is no time to be making jokes. Can't you see what he is doing?"

"Nae, what be 'e up to?"

"Do you see those lines in the sand? Those are signs of activation of a bounded field. More accurately, in this case, he's activating a reality marble. If I think I know which one he is using…"

Gilgamesh's eyes flashed dangerously as uncertainty washed over them. Lines were indeed forming around Achilles. Twice he tried to dash at his opponent but both time the desert winds prevented him from doing so."

"I'm not sure if I'd want to take it on. I met a very similar one many years ago…"

"Come! We move onward … **TO GLORY!"**

The chorus stopped; the fields around Achilles darkened as suddenly, the three combatants were trust onto grassy plains. Desert sands and dusty air vanished, replaced by a battlefield bathed by the early light of the sun. The distant walls of a grand city can be seen as drums faintly echoed in the distant fields. Lancer gulped. Gilgamesh seemed to be undisturbed, though something flickered in his eyes and he gripped Enuma Elish tightly, his knuckles a slight hint of paleness.

"I fought in the Trojan war. These men here are known as my myrmidons, but perhaps you, King of Heroes know them as…"

Achilles gestured behind him as a drumbeat echoed in the background. Huge, iron-bound shields were lined up rank by rank as a hedge of spears appeared over, just behind him. Plumed-helmed soldiers marched on in unison as horns echoed in the background. Gilgamesh's eyes widened.

"Impossible. Rider has the only other …this…this was supposed to be …"

"The Aegean Thureophoroi – the finest of any heavy infantry regiment in all of history. King of Heroes, you ask "What army?"

The hoplites came closer into view as they formed ranks and locked their gigantic shields together. Achilles grinned in triumph.

"**This army**."

Behind him, the Aegean Thureophoroi stomped, roared and raised their spears in unison. A thousand pointed tips glinted in the light. Nodding in satisfaction, Achilles raised his sword again and held it still, as if savoring the moment. With a grand sweep, he brought it down and shouted.

"Advance!"

* * *

As a royal guard captain and having climbed the ranks slowly towards glory, Assur had faced it all – giants, barbarians, invaders, monsters, wild beasts. However, he wasn't quite sure how to handle the wizened old man in front of him.

"Rude, your soldiers were; important prophecies I bring to Uruk!"

Utnapishtim poked his walking staff at the captain. The short little old man was maybe four feet tall at the most. It seems that whenever his facial expression changed, the wrinkles changed along with them. _He looked like a beggar in pile of moss green cloak-and-robes from afar_, Assur thought, _No wonder the greenhorns had no idea who he was…_

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp whack over the head.

"Always in motion is the future. Wasting time you are!" The old man exclaimed.

"Gilgamesh, I must see!"

Assur scratched his head as he sweated. How was he supposed to explain to this old man that his king wasn't there?

"Prophet, sir. The king's unavailable at the moment…Ah…he…"

"Like, yeah, totally dude. The king's like, totally disappeared." The recruit piped up, eager to help his superior officer with his dilemma.

At the moment, Assur wished him dead. Dead as a doorknob. The prophet wasn't surprised at all. He leaned on his staff and gave a little sigh as he sat down. By then, a crowd of people has already gathered around him. It is unusual for Utnapishtim to be making appearances in the city. He was a hermit, a loner; interested in his philosophy and pursuit of knowledge rather than Uruk's more mundane affairs.

"Truthful, this one is. His behavior Utnapishtim approves!" The old man beamed. Suddenly, as if remembering his original message, his expression darkened.

"People of Uruk, to me listen! Grave tidings I bring. Powerful forces of darkness marches on you as I speak. Dark fires in your city…coincidence it was not. Greater forces at work here!"

"Uh...old man, how did you know that?" The recruit asked. "Are you some like, cheap magician dude from the st - "

"Idiot," hissed Assur as he clamped his hand over the newbie's mouth. "That man is Utnapishtim, the oldest living human being and one of our realm's most powerful sorcerers. He may look old, but he's nearly immortal and can probably kick all of our asses here without a second thought. By Ea's bollocks do not tell me you've never heard of him!"

The recruit shook his head.

_Gods. What are the scribes teaching these kids anyways?_

"Whatever. Listen, recruit. Shut the flux up before one of us - me or him - lops off your head."

The recruit nodded in confirmation as he lapsed into silence. Sighing, Assur let the soldier go as he turned back to Utnapishtim, who was preaching to the rather large crowd that has gathered in front of the city gates.

"…Fight alone, Uruk cannot! Allies, you must seek. This day's arrival long have I foreseen. Buried upon Mountain Zagros, beacons I planted. Enchantments have I! Protected, it is. Signals, it will send."

The crowd cheered.

"However, problem has I! Due to long time of disuse, mechanism for its activation, broken it is. Heroes, I require. Climbing the mountain of Zagros and relight the fires of signal, difficult task is."

At this point, the younger men surged forward, each proclaiming his own deeds and valor and volunteering himself for the task. Assur shook his head and smirked. Pushing his way through the crowd, he presented himself. Surly the guard captain of Uruk should be the one taking this quest.

"Prophet," he began. "I am Assur, son of –"

"Who you are, I know!" Utnapishtim impatiently cut him off as he waved with his hand. "About your martial prowess or lineage, I care not! Only criteria are this: Play this strange instrument, can you?"

Taking a small bluish oval from his pocket, the prophet brandished it to the crowd. It was some sort of an enclosed space with twelve finger holes. A mouth tube projected from its circular body. It looked like a wind instrument of some sort.

Slowly, all the men started backing away. Most of them have never even seen a strange instrument like that, let along play it. With annoyance, Utnapishtim glared at the crowd.

"See! Why I need to see your king, this reason is! Knows how to play, he does! Need - "

"Uh, old dude? Can I see that ocarina please?"

Everyone turned to the voice of the recruit as Assur cursed silently for his insolence. Utnapishtim's eyes lit up.

"Hmm! The name of the instrument, knows you! Impressed is Utnapishtim! Here, young man. Try it, you will!"

Passing the ocarina to the young man, Utnapishtim waved at everyone to stand back. Eagerly grasping the blue oval, the recruit blew a few notes into it. At first, hesitantly but after a few seconds he soon gained confidence and played a small tune. Nodding in satisfaction, Utnapishtim beckoned to him.

"Young one! Come with me, you will! Stay in city, will the rest of you! Walls and defenses, prepare should you! Not much time have we!"

"Wait, old dude!" The recruit gestured wildly. "My name's Nilk. Can I ask you for a favor? Like, could we bring my captain along the way? Like, he's really cool and stuff. I think we should bring him. I think we might need him. Please? You'll like him. I really think we should bring him! I mean, come on. You aren't much of a warrior anyways. You look really really old, older than my gramps! And you know, I can't let you do the work since like, the scribes taught that young people like us are supposed to do all the heavy work and all. So, can we? Please?"

Pausing here for air, the recruit looked around. Everyone have returned to their daily works or hurried to the defense networks around the city. The only one left with he and the old man was his captain, who had a dangerously angry look on his face. Assur stomped over to his side, sword in hand.

"Thoughtful, you are. Bring your captain, we shall."

The old man replied, a twinkle in his eye. He smiled and turned to the pair. Hopping to Assur's face, he whispered something. The Mesopotamian warrior grunted in dissatisfaction and put away his sword. Huffing, he marched off towards the mountains as Utnapishtim and Nilk followed. Their bickering can be faintly heard in the background.

"Old dude, I still think you should just let us go solo. You look waaaay too old to be doing this…"

"Recruit, shut the hell up!"

"Hmph! When twelve hundred years old you reach, look as good you will not!"

* * *

Rin opened her eyes as the morning sun shone on her face. She had slept like a stone. Archer's cloak fell from her shoulders as she sat up. Her companion was nowhere in sight, though a pitcher of ice tea and some wafers were arranged in front of her. She popped a cake into her mouth and enjoyed the honeyed taste.

_I wonder where's Archer_, she thought. _Or what he's up to._ Though she knew that he was probably doing something practical as usual. She listened intently for his arrival. Rin didn't have to wait for long, as soon she saw a familiar shape emerge. Archer's sleeveless tunic was slightly dusty as he entered their camp.

"Morning," he curtly nodded. "I was out exploring the terrain. We're changing our plans – we're going to scale the mountain Zagros."

"A mountain…right. Archer, I don't doubt your abilities, but are you sure? We are in the middle of a desert, you know? How would both of us have missed it?"

Archer snorted as he picked up his coat. Kneeling down at the cavern's floor, he motioned Rin to come over.

"Here, feel this sand. Does this feel right to you?"

Rin did as he ordered. At first, everything was normal. As she held onto it, however, she gasped in surprise as the yellow sand suddenly blinked for a moment and turned into a handful of pebbles. The transformation immediately reverted back to the appearance. But to Rin, that was enough.

"…A clever disguise."

"Indeed," Archer replied as he packed their belongings. "It even fooled me for a while – but then I went outside for a walk last night, since I couldn't really sleep."

Rin glanced at him, looking slightly guilty as she realized what must have happened.

"Archer, you knew I would have been fine with what we had."

"Mhm. I didn't want to risk you catching a cold sleeping on the hard floor."

"Anyways," Archer continued. "I was out wandering around when I realized something didn't feel right. I saw cacti but I never seemed to be able to approach them. The little oasis that we are staying at seemed to have no origins and no endings. Curious, I started digging and hit solid rock. Then I realized…due to sheer, blind luck, we are actually much closer than we thought. Here."

Pointing at a mountain range right next to Uruk, Archer grinned. By now, the spell has been dispelled to the pair as looming, snowcapped peaks filled their field of vision. A small creek ran down the hillside.

"All we have to do is continue onward and descend the mountain from this side. I don't think you'll object to some climbing."

Rin nodded in affirmation. The two of them began their long climb to the top.

* * *

"Och, Gilgaemesh! 'E may have corny lines, but what the 'ell? Ye cannae be serious about - "

Lancer's comment was cut short as a snarling Gilgamesh bowled past him. The golden armored hero charged straight ahead at the first wall of spears. The hoplites dropped their shields and prepared to skewer the foolish challenger.

"Imbecile. Do you even know how to fight? You must be one of those cowardly kings who hide behind their people's backs and do all the work."

Achilles taunted his opponent from afar as more of the Aegean Thureophoroi marched forward in a half-moon formation.

"King of Heroes, let me give you some military tips. It's suicide for you to charge my spearmen. See those long pointed barbs? Those are called - "

"I know what pikes are, mongrel." Came Gilgamesh's cold retort. He was about a hundred meters away from the nearest pike formation. Brandishing the chains of heaven, he wrapped it tightly around his left arm and dragged the length of the chain along the ground.

"Quite. Then, O King of Heroes, you know my infantry is designed to mow down ranks and ranks of regular footmen with short weapons, right?"

Laughing, Achilles directed his men forward. To the Greek hero, it was almost like a game. How his blood boiled to see action again.

"Third rank, on standby!"

Gilgamesh ran at his opponents, his movement a blur. Three seconds before closing upon the opponent…he was going to need to time this just right.

"Second rank, on standby!"

He can see the horsehair plumes; he see the hairs on each individual strand. He can see the intricate artwork on the Thureophoroi's shields. He can see the pointed barbs, each one waving his own death at him.

"First rank, set pikes!"

Gilgamesh smirked. He got his opponents right where he wanted them…

A loud metallic clang, followed by a series of clattering and clanking. Achilles' eyes widened in surprise.

"…What?!"

The first pike formation was completely broken as more than half of his soldiers lie prone on the ground, their spears scattered all around them. The other half was scattered about desperately trying to reform ranks. In the middle of them was a golden blur as Gilgamesh lashed out, felling all around them. Achilles was completely dumbfounded. How in the world could one man take on a whole regiment? When the rules of warfare were so clearly on his side?

Only Gilgamesh knew what happened. The minute before he slammed into the pikes, he swung Ea with all of his strength. Using his own momentum, he managed to bat aside the first wall of spears, causing them to fly out from their owner's hands. He then thrusted out the chain of heavens and made a wide sweep under the infantrymen's feet, literally tripping all the members in the second rank. As the Thureophoroi in the second rank fell, burdened by all their armor, the entire formation was thrown in disarray. Because the heavy infantry had their pikes out, they were unable to retaliate. Leaving Gilgamesh free to wreak as much havoc as he possibly can.

Meanwhile, the other regiments have completely closed on Lancer and even now have surrounded the poor Irishman in a ring of pikes.

"Och. Lads…Shall 'e reason this out?"

His only response was a chorus of growls as the Thureophoroi hoisted their weapons.

"Aye, lads. Ye asked for it!"

Without a warning, Lancer lunged at the nearest Thureophoroi, knocking him off guard. He nimbly sprung onto the man's shoulders and twisted his opponent's arms expertly. The Greek yelped in pain as his hands loosed, giving up his spear. Lancer snatched the weapon. It was a bit light, but the balance was decent. He leapt high into the air just as a wall of spears impaled the location he was momentarily ago just standing. Now, with a weapon in hand, Lancer grinned. This was what he liked best – charging alone against impossible odds. Quickly flipping several times in mid air and landing behind the Thureophoroi legion, he roared and charged.

* * *

"How much more further, prophet?"

Assur huffed. He wasn't sure if he was the only one getting tired of the climb, but the old man and the younger man seemed to be full of energy. In fact, judging from the way the two were constantly bickering, he was surprised to see the old man in such a jovial state.

"Walk, you will. Not much further from here, beacon is."

"Hey, uh…dudes? I think we've got some problems."

"Shut up, recruit. Prophet, exactly what will we do when we get up to the mountain?"

"Hmm. Play the ocarina, Nilk will. Stretched out, the arcane field will be. Magic glyphs, light they will. Him, we guard. Simple is our task."

"Dudes? I think we're being follow - "

"Shut up, recruit."

The three heroes continued their talk as they climbed the mountains. Little did they know that they were indeed being followed. A short way behind them, Archer and Rin were hiding behind some rocks, observing them.

"Shall we continue following them?"

"Yes, Archer. I sense something strange about that boy though. First of all, the ocarina is a Mesoamerican or ancient Chinese instrument. I wonder how in the world a homegrown Babylonian would have known of the instrument, let alone play it. The old man is tremendously powerful. But the boy is…well, he's not quite letting on something. I think he's hiding something."

Archer nodded, agreeing with her analysis. The wind blew gently in Rin's hair. He tensed as his ears twitched.

"Rin, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Archer paused thoughtfully as he concentrated for a moment.

"Footsteps."

"My mundane hearing isn't quite as good as yours, Archer." Swallowing her next remark, Rin followed Archer and moved into a more secluded spot so they could observe the mountain route better. Archer had insisted that they wait and see things first before acting, since they would not be able to know whether or not the people they meet are hostile. Now, it seemed that his advice was sound. A small army was on their way to the top of the mountain. Soon, a column of plumed infantry mingled with shadowy giants marched up the path.

"Those are hoplites," whispered Rin. "And those other things … what are they?"

"Miasma." Archer whispered back. "Think the personification of the impurities from human wishes. That's how I see them. This is bad news for the three that just climbed up."

"Should we go help them, then?"

"No, Rin. You stay here. Let me go check things out."

"Hmph! Archer! You know perfectly well I can handle things on my own. You're just like Shiro sometimes!"

Rin whispered angrily as Archer looked at her, ironic mirth in his eyes. Pausing thoughtfully for a long moment, he replied.

"Rin. In a situation like this, how good are you at hand to hand combat?"

"Good enough to hold my own, and better than that kid, Shiro?"

"Heh. Have you ever fought against an army before?"

"…No?"

"Exactly," Archer snapped, a bit harsher than he meant. "Whatever you've learned, it's for taking on maybe three or four opponents at the same time. That sort of fighting is more or less useless here. So, first reason: I wouldn't want you to get in my way. However," he added as an afterthought. "My second reason: keeping you around here would mean you can blast their sorry behinds if I seem to get in trouble – which I won't be. That clear?"

Still disgruntled, Rin nonetheless had to admit that Archer's plan was sound. Muttering, she waved dismissal as the red-clad hero dashed off.

* * *

"HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN - "

"Recruit, will you shut the hell up before I stab you?"

"HEY, LISTEN, HEY - Sorry, captain, sir! But I swear I can hear something behind us, sir!"

"What are you talking about? It's just the wind!"

"Hold, Assur. The youngling, right is he. Footsteps I hear. Shaking, the earth is."

Assur looked at Utnapishtim incredulously.

You actually believe this crackhead, prophet?"

The prophet ignored him as he mentioned for the two to stop. They have arrived on the top of the mountain, in a flat arena-like location. A completely horizontal area has been carved into the mountain with cuneiform written all over it. The glyphs glowed slightly as Utnapishtim touched it. Handing the ocarina to Nilk, he nodded.

"Play tune, you will."

"Anything I want?"

Utnapishtim nodded.

"Feel the music, you will."

The boy took over the instrument and began to play. A light, airy echo emerged from the ocarina as the stones themselves seemed to be infused by its music. A blue aura radiated from the ocarina as one by one, the glyphs came to life. The whistling sound was strangely enchanting as even Assur, who never liked music was inclined to nod along. _The tune was so lively! _Enjoying the music, he was rather disappointed when it was suddenly interrupted by a hiss and a sharp "whonk."

Utnapishtim had his walking stick in his hand. The old man was in a fighting stance as a group of strangely armored iron men surrounded him with large spears. Terrifying giants of pure darkness surrounded them. The hiss was from one of them, of whom Utnapishtim apparently has just struck.

"You short old man! Prepare to die!"

"Hold it! Before you even lay a finger on the prophet, you have to go through me first!"

Assur drew his short sword and rushed to the old man's side. This was where he was needed. This was why he came. _They must know what we are up to,_ he thought as he readied himself. He tackled one of the iron men and immediately knocked his opponent over. Slashing out with his sword, he whirled. Suddenly, pain shot through him. An arc of lightning streaked across his body. Yelling in pain, the captain fell. A particularly ironed man stepped over his body, his head covered in silvery metal.

"Hah, so this is your bodyguard, old man? How pathetic."

"Patroclus. Just kill them and destroy the beacon. Then we can focus on destroying the city."

Paralyzed, Assur can only watch as more and more soldiers surrounded Utnapishtim.

"Fine by me," Patroclus replied as he waved and the rest of the soldiers formed into a wedge.

"Keep playing, Nilk. Depend on you, the fate of our world."

Nodding, the recruit began to play again. The music of the ocarina once again flew from his lips. Their opponents were not impressed.

"Run that short old relic through, and then kill the boy."

Utnapishtim gripped his walking stick tightly. He glared at the soldiers.

"Size matters not. Look at me. Judge me by size, do you?"

Unconsciously, even the Thureophoroi took a step back. What was going on? They thought they were going against a weak old man!

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

Utnapishtim flew at his nearest opponent, his stick in hand. Bashing the man's knees with his stout stick, he immediately rolled to the left and tripped over another hoplite. As a third stabbed him with his spear, the old man merely blocked his thrust and easily reversed the direction. Like a desert whirlwind, the small green robe lashed out at his opponents. Slamming his staff into a shadow giant's head, he smoothly stepped back as it fell on top of two more soldiers. He jabbed a hoplite in the eye and kicked another between his legs. All this in one smooth motion as he landed neatly next to his half-dozen fallen opponents. Behind him, the glyphs in the beacon lit up; only six more of them remained.

Patroclus gulped and inched back behind the shield wall. He wasn't particularly intimidated – after all, his forces outnumbered this old man. There were a couple of hundred of them and one Utnapishtim. There was no way that old pile of bones could walk out of this one alive. The unfortunate thing was that only a few of them can attack at the same time.

_Whatever,_ he thought. _These men are expendable anyways. A pity I used the lightning surge on the wrong man._

Drawing his sword, Patroclus mentioned for his men to advance. Slowly but surely, the old man was pushed back. His fighting style required him to move constantly with his staff. However, Utnapishtim also had to block the pathway to where Nilk was playing, severely hampering his ability. The young man seemed to understand this as well – his fingers worked faster as he played the instrument like one possessed by a demon. The glyphs have now almost lit up completely – just two more in the center circle remained.

Patroclus growled in frustration. It was then an idea dawned on him. He shoved Utnapishtim back as he suddenly threw his sword at the young man. He watched in satisfaction as the old man turned around and charged towards the projectile, knocking it out of his way. Snatching a sword from another soldier, Patroclus lunged at Utnapishtim.

"You die now, old man!"

"Not if anything to say about it, have I!"

The old prophet shouted as he spun around with impossible velocity. Patroclus' strike missed him by a hair. However, the attack did manage to knock him off his balance as the arch sage tumbled to the ground. Immediately, four spear thrusts followed. The old man managed to roll out of the way and dodge all of them, but things were looking grim. Another spear skewered his robes and pinned him down to one location. Patroclus smugly smirked. He liked easy opponents. He told his troops to back off as he walked over to taunt the old man.

"Hah, what do you have to say about it now?"

"Much anger I sense in you," Utnapishtim replied evenly. "Victorious you may be, yet powerful you are not."

"What, you stunty old bastard. Who's the one pinned down?"

"Happens to everyone, sometimes this does." Utnapishtim smirked back. The look on the old man's face was annoying Patroclus. He decided to off the old guy first before taking out the kid playing that annoying ocarina. Lifting his sword, he swung. Utnapishtim blocked it. He raised his sword again and swung again. It was met with the same result. However, he knew that the old man will soon tire. The prospect of adding another kill excited him. Surely it would be glorious for him to defeat the man who survived the Flood in single combat!

"Gand!"

A deafening bang echoed across the peak as Patroclus' sword was knocked out from his hands. A red blur landed next to him and immediately leapt away. With one strike, Utnapishtim was cut free as the old man rolled back to his feet.

"Is this what you do, hero? Pathetic."

The strange newcomer was clad in red and held a pair of black and white falchions. The girl behind him was dressed in outlandish clothing, but her finger crackled with energy. To Patroclus, it didn't matter. They were yet another minor annoyance to be dealt with.

"Striking an opponent from behind is dishonorable."

Immediately, the man in red threw one of his swords at him. Patroclus barely brought up his own weapon in time as Archer's Kansho met his own steel. The impact hurt his hands.

"You hypocrite. How dare you speak of honor when you are the one attacking someone with unfair odds."

Archer spoke evenly as the sword boomeranged back to him. His disdain clearly shown on his face as he turned around to Rin.

"Permission to utterly kick his ass?"

"Permission granted." Rin replied, smiling.

Archer's twin falchions flashed in the sunlight as he leapt at Patroclus. The Greek hero brought up his sword to block the first overhead slash, only to be cut by a backhand stroke from Archer's white sword. Bakuya scored a huge gash on Patroclus' arm as Archer rotated his blade slightly, locking his opponent's weapon in place. The ocarina's music fluttered in and out gently.

"Wha-what are you morons doing? Save your commander!!"

The Thureophoroi immediately swarmed around Archer as he kicked Patroclus down to the ground. Spinning around with Kansho, Archer slashed at his opponents gracefully. A Thureophoroi went down almost immediately, hamstrung from a well-placed blow. Weaving and dodging among the spear thrusts, Archer landed a savage cut on the coward below him before he cleaved a shield in half and sidestepped out of the way. In a situation where his speed is unusable, Archer opted for raw attack strength – his twin blades flashed and followed as steel met steel.

"The rest of you men, get the boy!"

As if on cue, someone commanded. By now, more and more of the heavy infantry and miasma have arrived on the platform. While the miasma seemed to be content watching their human allies move, the hoplites gave no qualms as they stepped into the fray eagerly. Rin tensed and unleashed another Gand strike. She wasn't sure if she was able to hold off so many at the same time, but she had to try. The little old man beside her was evidently thinking the same thing as he was like a coiled spring, ready to strike.

However, the ground beneath them started to shake as the last glyph lit up. Blue light filled the entire mountain-top as a spherical globe of light rose to the surface. Nilk stopped playing as he himself disappeared into the radiance, a smile still on his face. Beaming, Utnapishtim smiled.

"Lit, the beacon is! With it, hope arrives!"

Patroclus gritted his teeth and screamed in frustration. They had failed their task. Achilles will not be pleased. Crawling back to his feet, he screamed hoarsely.

"Kill them, kill them all!"

More and more of the heavy infantry rushed onto the platform. Some fell, pierced by Archer's swords or by Rin's magic. But Archer cannot dodge forever, and with more opponents arriving, he is forced to move back in the same fashion as Utnapishtim. Forced to give to compensate for his lack of reach, he watched helplessly as he is shoved back.

_This is what they mean by numerical superiority, isn't it?_

More and more arrived until finally, they surrounded the small group of defenders. Patroclus knew this time that victory was at hand. Handing his sword to one of his soldiers, he muttered.

"Go kill the old man first. Then carve up the red man. Save the girl for me. I'm going to have some fun after I bind my wounds."

"Typical." Rin muttered as she stood with Archer back to back. She was contemplating casting a smokescreen or something along those lines to give them all a chance to escape.

"Why must I always be pursued by perverts or bumbling idiots who lacked personal hygiene?"

"Almost up, my time is. Distraction, I will be." Utnapishtim whispered. "Great strength sense I in you two. Great bond as well. Mm!"

"No, sage. You take her and leave. I'll buy us time." Archer clasped her hand tightly, as if saying goodbye. A split second later, with some small regret, he let go of her and plunged Kansho and Bakuya into the stone. To his surprise, he felt a warm touch in his other hand. Looking down, he saw Rin's blue eyes staring at him as she grabbed his other hand.

"Archer. No way. I'm staying with you this time."

"So you won't be in my way this time?"

"Hmph! As if!"

The pair smiled knowingly at each other and placed their lives in the other's hands. Be it Unlimited Blade Works, or Gem sorcery, they were going to get out of this. It seemed an eternity, but it was really a mere few seconds as Patroclus ordered his solder to attack.

"Kill the old man."

The Thureophoroi nodded and took a step forward before he suddenly collapsed, a clean hole through his chest as a violet beam of light pierced his armor.

"What? Who gave you permission to die?!"

Patroclus howled in rage. He took the sword and ran at Utnapishtim, intent on cleaving the old man in two.

He took two steps before another ray of light ran him clean through.

"Throwing your soldier's lives blindly…Have you no regard for the sanctity of life?"

The newest speaker walked out from the blue portal. His ebony skin a sharp contrast to the metallic, lifeless silver armor of the Thureophoroi. He was powerfully built and his tightly-fitting kilt seemed to glitter in the sunlight. A closer inspection revealed that they were made out of the finest white cotton and finely beaten golden strands. Decorations and emblems marked his belt. Every inch the Egyptian from his shaven head to his sandals, the newcomer's headdress was stately, a double crown of azure and white. His normally even expressions narrowed in disgust as he looked at the group in front of the defenders.

"Ah! Ramses! Arrived in time, you have! A Welcoming sight you are!"

"I thought my mentor might require some small assistance." Ramses replied as he waved, his weapon returning to his hand. The scepter of the pharaoh glowed brightly in the sun as it extended in length. Now the length of a quarterstaff, Ramses gripped the center region tightly as the ends of the metal rod emitted a purple glow and hummed with energy.

"I have also brought the council of elders along with me. They should be arriving in the city shortly. In the meantime…please allow me to take care of the trash."

With lightning speed, Ramses charged the troops surrounding his mentor and allies. Already disoriented from the loss of their leader, the Thureophoroi were quickly decimated by his attacks. Ramses' weapon was strange – his staff appeared to be able to wound on both ends as he only gripped the center but swung it in large loops. The twin violet blades hummed with energy as he cut through his opponents' shield, flesh, and dark matter with ease.

"Did you see that dude? He was so totally awesome, just like my captain! BAM!" Nilk piped up from the portal as he helped his captain standing up. Together, the group began their counterattack.

* * *

London, England. The midnight hour of modern day. A lone light flickered on the top floor of a grand mansion as Big Ben struck, its metallic voice echoed through the night air.

It was more study than a place for sleeping anyways, as a well-stocked wine cabinet stood side by side with three bookshelves filled with the classics of the world. The bedroom was dimly lit with only two deskside lamps, but for the lecturer reading a battered copy of his favorite book, it was enough. Its yellowed and dogeared pages were full of highlights and scribbles as the talented professor of the Clock Tower took out a stubbed pencil and underlined again a portion of its pages. Marking up a text was his method of thinking along with it.

"_In your eagerness to engage the Trojans, don't any of you charge ahead of others, trusting in your strength and horsemanship. And don't lag behind. That will hurt our charge…"_

Lord El-Melloi II turned the page of Homer's _Iliad_ as he paused. Savoring in every syllable of those ancient words and listening to the ringing of the clock tower in the background, he continued.

"_Any man whose chariot confronts an enemy's should thrust with his spear at him from there. That's the most effective tactic, the way men wiped out city strongholds long ago—_

_their chests full of that style and spirit."_

He could see it in his mind. Charioteers running down ranks and ranks of enemies as the royal riders trampling over all resistance as they galloped towards their goal. To be a charioteer was to be reckless; hot-blooded; and also entirely active, confidant of their own future. El-Melloi nodded in affirmation as he mouthed the words, tasting each and every one. It felt so real, like he had experienced it. Indeed, he had. Once, not so long ago in the distant past, didn't he himself ride in one?

"Ten years…" El-Melloi whispered to himself. "Has it already been ten years?"

Carefully putting down the _Iliad_, he yawned. It was midnight, and he had a lecture to prepare to more hormone-raging students. He turned off one of the lights and returned the book to its rightful place among his collections of classics, next to the _Autobiography of Alexander the Great_.

He extinguished the other light as he crawled under his blankets, thankful for their softness. The darkness was like a barrier that shielded him from his past memories. Sleep. The oblivion that he often sought. Lord El-Melloi was a man who was frequently admired, yet he didn't care much for it. Funny thing too, as merely years ago he would have given everything in the world for recognition. Too many things and past events haunted him. Too many things that can only be forgotten via sleep.

How he wanted to be a hero. How he wanted to be admired. And admired he is now…the most popular lecturer in all of England. Students flocked to him. Women swooned over him. He was rich, powerful, handsome…everything a man could be. Yet the admiration he sought was different. That wish belonged to the past. Though he dares not admit to it, sometimes he wished he could have been born in the past.

_We are such things as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep_.

As he hazily drifted away to that land of dreams, he heard a dull thud coming somewhere with his basement. Dismissing it as white noise, El-Melloi turned around, covering his head with a pillow.

Thud, thud, thud CRASH. He heard the sound of ceramics shattering.

Lord El-Melloi II, Master Lecturer of the Clock Tower bolted upright. Hurriedly throwing a robe over himself, he snapped his fingers. Immediately, blue globes of flame sprang into existence as all traces of sleep vanished from him. Alert and focused, he concentrated his arcane senses as invisible tendrils of prana shot out, directing him to his intruder.

Sure enough, someone was in his mansion. Someone powerful enough to bypass his wards, yet someone too clumsy to not bump into things. El-Melloi ran down to his trophy room and saw pieces of the priceless Ming vase lay on the ground, their shards a silent testimony to the previous events. Cursing himself for not getting a metal frame to put around them, but silently congratulating himself for having the foresight to buy such trinckets, El-Melloi checked his study. As his arcane vision glanced over his various shelves and cabinets, he blinked. Something wasn't quite right. He doubled checked again, just to make sure.

All the exquisite gold jewelry was exactly where they were at. No magical artifacts were misplaced. All his spellbooks are in place. Not a single gem was missing. His stamp collection was entirely intact. Perplexed, Lord El-Melloi triple checked his findings. The exact same results occurred. Nothing, not even a toothpick holder was missing from their original location. Yet clearly, someone was here. He clearly heard a sound, and he was positive he did not buy a broken vase.

He let his mundane vision take over. It was then he realized what was missing. Hidden away behind a bunch of catalysts samples, he had constructed a shelf to hold his memoirs of the fourth Heaven's Feel. Because the magical materials were not worth much, he had not cast a ward of protection over them. A gaping hole appeared at where the shelf was supposed to be as spilled chemicals seeped into the carpet. El-Melloi sighed. He was going to get someone to clean up the mess later.

Retreating back to his bed chamber, he placed his hand over his chin and pondered. Whoever the thief is, he was probably long gone. If he was powerful enough to get in without alerting his magical defenses, then he was surely powerful enough to get out. The curious thing was not who, or what, but what he didn't take. Instead of the countless items of power…this thief stole something that was of no use or worth to anyone. Sighing, El-Melloi rubbed his temples.

_Now…what would someone want with an out-dated video game system that went out of style ten years ago…?_

It was then he realized the true intent of the thief. Whoever it was, it was just a distraction. The thief hasn't left yet – he is still in the house somewhere. Tense, Lord El-Melloi stood up, his long robes swishing behind him. He began his spellcasting as he carefully scanned his mansion for any and all signs of activity, magical and normal. The power flowed out of him as he sang the verses in an ancient tongue.

"_Excito, Mes Lumens!"_

His magical sight stretched out across the mansion. To his satisfaction, he detected a signal. It was fairly fresh – someone was just there five minutes ago. Whispering a word of command, the winds whisked him away to his intended location…

Once again, Lord El-Melloi II gaped in surprise. Expecting the intruder to be back in the trophy room or in his archives, he instead found himself in his kitchen. His fridge stood with one door still swinging, its forlorn look more than enough to tell him what has happened. Hanging his head, El-Melloi vowed to make the intruder pay. His caviar has better not be missing!

"Inventory report," he snapped as a magical construct scurried over to obey its master's command.

"Affirmative. One microwave. Fourteen packages of "Master Kong" ramen noodles, eight cans of Campbell "Chunky" New England clam chowder, a crate of "El Cid" instant microwavable tacos, three boxes of Keebler crackers, a pack of thirty-six Red Bull, seven boxes of Momma Mia's Lasagna, five large meat-lover's pizzas, two dozen "Mountain Dew," thirty-three U.S Army Meals Ready to Eats, nineteen - " the mechanical maid's report was interrupted by El-Melloi as he impatiently snapped.

"The valuables, Claire, the important objects?"

"None, my lord," the construct cheerfully replied.

"The only items missing were items considered to be unhealthy, "junk food" by the Food Standards Agency."

Without warning, another construct appeared.

"My Lord? An unknown intruder recently broke into your wardrobe. It ah…"

The construct looked down, as if she was embarrassed.

"Just say it."

"…It stole your pants."

"…You. Have. To. Be. Joking."

"Negative, Lord El-Melloi. Also, several of your "T-shirts" are missing."

El-Melloi slapped his forehead. He was sure that someone was messing with him at this point, but he hadn't the patience to deal with it. He had no idea who would want his jeans, but the only T-shirts he had were those he bought in remembrance of the fourth Grail War. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the constructs, who returned to their silent work around the mansion.

_Junk food…T-shirts from the fourth Heaven's Feel…an ancient game system…a freaking microwave?! What the hell?_

Stalking back up the stairs, he was planning to get a good night's rest and investigate it in the morning when he realized that one of his wards has been tripped yet again.

This time, it was in the living room. The signals show that the intruder was still present. El-Melloi's blood boiled as he dashed towards it, spells of destruction on his lips. As he reached the twin elm doors, his magical senses reaffirmed him of his detections. Yet, he paused for a moment and placed his ears on the door. For a moment, he was once again the young man of ten years ago as uncertainty struck him. How should he be approaching this, anyhow? Should he burst in and immediately cast –

Without warning, the doors flew open in his face. Or rather, the top part of the door, along with the hinges flew right at him. The force knocked him to the ground as he saw a huge shape inside his living room. The flickering of his plasma TV can be seen in the background.

"Lousy, cheaply made things…why didn't the kid get something stouter was beyond me…"

A leonine head poked through the opening. The glint on his copper-hued armor can be seen though the faint light of the TV still in the background. His red hair and beard stood on their ends, as if they were blazing. The giant's eyes shone with an inner fire as his huge head surveyed his surroundings slowly, looking for his eavesdropper. His expression lit up as he found El-Melloi, whose head was still smarting under the blow and his face broke into a huge grin.

"HEY! Kid! Waver! Come here! Help me set this thing up!"

"….Alex…Alexander?"

Lord El-Melloi II was speechless as he slowly picked himself up from the ground. Seeing his behavior, Alexander laughed and gestured at him with a burrito.

"Yeah, kid. What, not happy to see me? Here, tell me which wire goes where. I never had a chance to try this thing I bought out. After this, I'll explain myself. Promise."

* * *

How many more were there?!

Gilgamesh didn't know. All he knew was that he had to keep on going. He hoped that Achilles was running out of energy. He was now charging together with Lancer as the two of them charged through ranks and ranks of infantry, mowing his opponents down with great force. Despite his ego, Gilgamesh had to admit that the spearman wasn't half bad – his feats of acrobatics combined with the mastery of the lance made him an excellent combatant. While Gilgamesh batted aside the hedge of spears, most of the time Lancer just charged into them. Against any lesser armies, they would have be broken hours ago.

Yet the Thureophoroi were relentless. No matter how many legions he and Lancer batter down, it was simply no use.

"Yes…destroy my men…I have more, many, many more…"

Achilles laughed. His laugh was cut short as an animalistic roar echoed in the background. The sound rippled in the air; the sky shattered; the earth faded away. Suddenly, they were back in the middle of the desert. The soldiers were still there, but they seemed confused, disorganized. The fields conjured by Achilles' reality marble has somehow been broken.

"Friend, do you hear me?"

A deep, booming voice echoed across the valley. Gilgamesh's heart lit up. He had never thought he would hear that voice again.

"ENKIDU!" He shouted as he charged another group of Thureophoroi.

Achilles frowned. He was not going to spend more men here. He had lost the advance of isolating his opponents, and he was definitely not staying with the possibility of another hero joining them. His original plan of eliminating his opponents has failed. For that, he needs to plan again. He waved to his army as the infantry formed ranks and retreated. Soon, apart from the broken weapons, no sign of the battle remained.

Neither Gilgamesh nor Lancer decided to pursue. Lancer plopped down onto the ground, exhausted after his battle-rage. Gilgamesh showed no signs of weariness. He was too excited. Shouting, he looked around wildly for the voice he heard.

"Enkidu!" He shouted. There was no response.

"Enkidu?"

All that answered him was the voice of the desert wind, calling to him.

"Enkidu!"

Puzzled, Gilgamesh yelled again.

"Enkidu!"

There was no response. Disappointed, he sat down on a rock next to Lancer.

Was he merely dreaming? No. Achilles' reality marble was broken. There is only one man who could do that – Enkidu, the Lord of Beasts, his closest friend.

And yet…If that is him, where is he? Why doesn't he show himself?

Gilgamesh mulled over this dilemma as the sandstorm began to subside, turning the sky a complex sandy yellow hue.


	10. Resurgence

Whee. You guys are awesome for reading my work. Thank you!

* * *

Dusk.

The sun wades across the empty sky. There is nothing left in the desert; Achilles' men have vanished without a trace. There are no cries; no blood, no bodies. Only the desert wind accompanied the two men as the sandstorm subsided and the wind died down to a gentle whisper.

However peaceful the wind may have been, Gilgamesh was not. His head tilted as he scanned the area.

"Enkidu!" he yelled, his voice now hoarse.

Like before, nothing answered him. He angrily picked up a handful of sand and flung it into the air. The hope of meeting his old friend again faded away like the very grains he tossed away. Picking up a hoplite's broken shield, Gilgamesh threw it at the horizon. The disk quickly disappeared.

"Och, lad. Come. Let us go. Dere is nothin' to see 'ere." Lancer tapped his shoulder gently. The Irishman pointed to the distant city with his borrowed spear.

"Tis gettin' dark. We should return to the city lest some wee beasties be wantin' supper."

"Whatever, mongrel. Are you afraid of wild creatures?"

"No, lad, but we be wastin' time. Yer friend, if he was there, be gone now."

Gilgamesh sighed. He didn't want to admit it, but the Irish spearman standing in front of him was right, again. He turned around and absentmindedly brushed off a speck of nonexistent dust off his shoulder plate.

"I was just thinking about the same thing, mongrel."

"Would ye stop callin' me "mongrel?!"

"Only if you will stop referring to me as "lad." Come, mongrel, dinner is waiting for us at my palace. Then you can help me save the world."

_You'd think he'd be a bit less haughty now that the world is in danger. _Lancer sighed as he turned and followed the golden warrior.

* * *

"So, can we like, go now?"

The recruit whined as Utnapishtim dragged Rin and Archer to one side. He wanted to sneak over and listen to them, but he stopped himself. Nilk wasn't too sure if he should be snooping, but he figured that the old sage will probably tell him what he needs to know. He whistled again, looked at the beacon again, and knew he couldn't keep himself disguised for much longer. Thus, he contented himself with staring into the open sky as nightfall rapidly approaches.

"…So, at work my old friend is. Very well…"

"…Correct, and we believe the artifact in question that Locke requires is within the city limits…"

Nilk yawned. He wasn't sure if the humans understood what they needed to do yet, but he knows that he cannot interfere. For now, all he had to do was play his role.

_I'm honestly getting tired of this whole "talking like a newbie" and acting human business. What I wouldn't give for some wing-room right now…_

Sensing that Ramses was staring at him, Nilk quickly drew back to his spot.

"So, we don't know who this guy is or where he is from?" Rin whispered hurriedly as she stole a glance in the young man's direction. "You realize in these circumstances he could be with our enemies, right?"

"Rin, I'm not sure if I get it," Archer interjected. "He just helped us get help from bald guy over there."

"Idiot, what happened to your own counter-guardian training? It is PRECISELY these acts of kindness that we need to be on our guard for."

Pointing at the young man staring into empty space a mere thirty feet from him, Archer shook his head.

"I think we should trust him."

"Since when were YOU, out of all people so trusting? Rin's temper flared. _Why won't he see it my way?_ "Seriously? Look at him. Don't tell me you can't feel something odd about the kid. In fact, you were the one who said that there was something wrong with him a few hours ago, wasn't it? Why is he talking like a teenager from Tokyo? He handles the sight of blood like any veteran, where did he get the experience? Where did he learn to play the Ocar-whatmachallit-"

"Ocarina."

"Oh, be quiet!"

"Young ones?" Utnapishtim tugged on Archer's sleeve, a look of worry coming onto his face.

"Keep on going, we're still listening."

"I…I forgot what I was going to say," Rin mumbled, blushing slightly.

"Typical," Archer smirked. "Anyways, I -" he looked around and saw the old man looking at him. "Sorry, please go ahead."

"Thank you, young one," Utnapishtim smiled.

"Powerful magic at work, will be. Your magic fragment, originates from here, it was. In normal situations, the essence of the world, appears as a book it will. However, take what form the tablet will, I know not. Act quickly, we must. Fragment is intelligent, yes, but it is picky when choosing its activation location."

"So we just need to wander around the city to find a place for the magic to work? Grrreat. Goldie's place is huge."

Utnapishtim didn't answer. Instead, he picked up his walking stick and flipped forward. Landing eight steps below the platform, he turned and shouted.

"Ramses! Stay on the hill, you will! Watch over the others, responsibility is yours.Huge it may be, but find it we will! To my abode, we go! Useful knowledge we shall find there."

Rin nodded. She had a hunch that they were going to go through moldy old books again, and then she realized that paper hasn't reached this part of the world yet. Sighing, she beckoned to Archer as the pair followed the sage.

"You're getting the heavy stuff," she laughed a little. Her dark tresses flying back as she ran nimbly towards the prophet of Uruk, who shrugged as he began walking downhill.

"Come, come! Do, or do not..."

"…there is no try," Archer muttered. He bowed his head in anticipation of the unrealistic amounts of clay tablets he needed to carry.

The pharaoh said nothing but stood still as he watched his mentor and the two strangers walk off the mountain. Turning around to face Nilk, he questioned.

"Warrior, who are you?"

"Huh? You know my name already. I'm Nilk." The youngster answered flippantly.

Ramses was not convinced. There was something too flippant about the young man's response. He looked at the youngster carefully. Their eyes met, and for a second, it did seem that something a lot more lurked behind his jade-green eyes, but that was gone as soon as it appeared.

Nilk looked back quizzically.

"Um, mister pharaoh person, why are you staring at me?"

The pharaoh grunted and looked away. Hefting his weapon, he began his slow descent down the hill.

_Heh, if only he looked back. _Nilk grinned as he hopped down from where he was sitting. _Yeah, alright. That has got to be the lamest way of powering up, in the history of the modern world. Ever, but oh well. A dragon's gotta do with what a dragon has on hand, right? It's not like cold fusion have been invented yet, and it probably won't be for at least another couple of hundred – no, wait, what era are we in again?_

Nilk smirked and look around in his pockets.

_Swiss army knife, pickle slicer, half-eaten pack of gum, keys, portable USB…_

* * *

She's gone now. She really is gone.

Dawn approached Shiro as he sat numbly in front of a small limestone marker. Saber was gone. Saber, his Saber. Gone because of him.

The remaining Knights of the Round pressed on. They had a mission to fulfill. Shiro could understand. He couldn't help them in his current condition, and he certainly wouldn't let himself be the one to drag them down. He has a mission to fulfill too, doesn't he? He had to save the world by breaking the perfect logic. But the only thing he could save was Excalibur, and that he buried away. Deep, deep, and away. Away from the surface.

Yet, how was he supposed to do that without Saber?

The little gravestone looked at him sadly, as if it understood him. It seemed to sway in sympathy as a light breeze rocked the surface of the once-green landscape. A few leaves circled around Shiro as he stared. Stared and sat.

Stared and sat.

He was useless, wasn't he? He couldn't do anything. Everyone is better fit at this hero thing than he is. Why did he even bother? If he wasn't here, none of this would have happened.

Stare.

And now she's gone.

Stare.

Meanwhile, about a few hundred yards away…

"Roobyn! hic I thinksh we should helpsh 'im!"

The fat friar mumbled as he downed another mug of ale. Robin said nothing. He heard a rustle as Marian emerged from the woods and sat down next to him, her hair still wet from her morning wash.

"Honey," she began, taking one of Robin's hands in her own as she pressed gently on it. "It's been a rough day for the kid - "

"Nah, Rough day? He just saw his crush-love person commit suicide in order to save his life. That's not rough at all. We can't stay here and watch over him either. That point's been agreed upon. We need to move as quickly as possible towards the battle destination. "

Will Scarlet snapped nonchalantly as he filled his pipe. Meanwhile, Friar Tuck was filling up an Ale barrel with water as he mumbled again, this time more loudly.

"Roobyn! hic I thinksh we should helpsh 'im!"

"Give the kid some time. He'll get over it."

"Will! That's not good for him! Look at him! He's like your room inside the Fortress, except broken."

"Roobyn! Ish reallysh thinksh hic yoo should talk hic to Sheerooo!"

"Alright, alright. So he's a little messed up at the moment. I've had worse."

"comrade, my love, my good friar, I think _he_ can hear us." Robin quietly spoke.

It was true. Shiro was staring in their general direction, except with a blank look on his face.

"Personally, I think Will's right. Some things in our lives we can't control. I think it's better if we let him - "

"Honey, have a heart…"

"Uh, if we let him - " Robin paused as Marian inched her way into his lap and stared at him pitifully with those huge, luminescent eyes.

"Uh…"

"Dear, I know you mean the best for him. Shiro's not a bad kid, but trust me on this." Marian nudged playfully as she continued. "You need a woman's heart to understand this. Sometimes manning it out just doesn't work. So please, will you go talk to him? Please?"

"Alright, alright. You win. I'll go talk to him." Robin laughed as he gave Marian a light peck on her cheek. Will rolled his eyes, but said nothing. The chatter of Sherwood forest quickly drowned out Robin's footsteps as he approached the downcast youngster.

_Marian, oh Marian…who did you think I was anyways? Richard the Lionheart? You know I can't…pep…talk…_

Robin gulped as he sat down next to Shiro.

"Hey, kid."

Shiro turned around and look at him blankly, without much expression on his face.

"Uh…hey, kid. We know what happened, and uh…we know how you feel."

"No you don't," a blocky, mechanical tone replied. "You DON'T know how I feel."

Robin sighed again as he scratched his head. It was true. He doesn't know how Shiro feel. Regardless, he was going to give it a shot as he sat down next to the grieving boy.

"You're right. I don't. I suppose I'll know how you feel if I should lose Marian," the ranger said slowly, carefully picking out his words. He saw Marian giving him a quizzical look.

_Help!_ He signaled with his eyes. His lady's eyes lit up as she nodded and slowly approached the pair.

"I do know, however, that we're trying to help you, and that we really want to help you. What do you say? Can you give us a chance?"

Shiro stared and said nothing.

"You know, dear, Robin's right," Marian continued. "We know what happened was terrible, but it'll only stay terrible if you make it to be so."

"What?"

"That's right," Robin continued. "We can't alter time. Or, actually, I suppose we can, since we ARE here in this messed up battle right now. You know, Marian, I - "

"HONEY!"

"Right. Anyways. We can't change what has happened, but we do have control over the present. You know, we have an old saying here." Robin smiled gently as he looked over to Marian's side and held his hand out. A leaf slowly fell onto his hand.

"Yesterday is history," he whispered.

"Tomorrow is a mystery," Marian joined in as another leaf danced pass them. Shiro raised his head and looked at them, like a man who is just beginning to wake from a nightmare.

"But today is a gift. That is why it is called the present."

Shiro's expression softened for a moment as he nodded. Marian and Robin gave each other a knowing smile as they disappeared into the woods.

_Maybe they were right. I can change what happens next._

Why bother? A bitter little voice said in his ear. They've still got each other.

"Get up."

Shiro jumped as Will Scarlet appeared out of nowhere. _How in the world do all these ranger people do that? _

"I'll keep it brief, but grow up. What you have suffered is nothing in comparison to some other people. You have to tough up and just take it like a man."

"Take it like a man? I don't see you taking up ANYTHING!" Shiro shouted. "Can you ever get off your stupid high horse and drop your tough-man act?"

He was expecting Will to flare up. Instead, Will just gave a little chuckle. There was a hint of sadness as he answered.

"The young thinks the world revolves around them. Little do they know, if they are the only sufferers in the world, then there will be no unhappiness left in the world."

With that, Will turned and walked into the shadows, leaving a very disgruntled Shiro.

_Hmph. What does he know? _

"Lotsh o' shthings!"

Shiro sighed in exasperation. He wanted to be left alone. He didn't want to be bothered anymore, and now he had to entertain a drunk along the way too?

"Could you please leave me alone?"

"Not until yoush getsh better!"

"I said, could you leave me alone?" Shiro snapped. He was losing his temper. How could this fat man ever understood what he was going through?

"Not until yoush getsh better! Ish can readsh yoo mind, Sheeroo."

"Go away!"

"No!"

"Go away!!"

"No." The friar said quietly. All semblance of being drunk have left his voice. He looked at the boy kindly. With a stern voice, he began speaking.

"Shiro Emiya. I may be drunk most of the time, but I see things better while drunk than you are sober!

First of all, you have no right to accuse Will Scarlet. He has gone through atrocities that you couldn't even bear to think. He lost his mother when he was young - "

"So? I never grew up with a mother. All I had was dad!"

The friar seemed to puff up a little as he looked at Shiro angrily. Despite his stained robes and his rotund figure, his scholarly voice is as powerful as any king.

"That year, 1315. Famine struck the land. The sheriff didn't care. He was doing fine while all of England went hungry.. I was working in the abbey as a scribe, oblivious to what happened around me. I had work, I had respect, I had everything most other people didn't have, but I wasn't content. I felt fake; like my life wasn't doing anything. I was supposed to be serving God, but instead, I was stuck in some little cubicle penning the fat sheriff's decrees.

It was then I first met Will. He broke into my house, and thinking him to be a thief, I brought him to the authorities. The sheriff of Nottingham decided to sentence him to death through hanging.

In a strange twist of fate, I was to be his chaplain the night before his death. I approached his cell that night, expecting another hardened criminal. Instead, he said nothing to me except this one thing.

"Do you know that you have killed not one, but three today?"

Perplexed, I sat down next to him.

"Brother Scarlet, the law is written, and the law is just. That's how it has been for the past hundred years."

"Friar," he continued. "I beg this one thing, then. If the law is just, then I will die justly here. When I die, please go out of town, about ten miles from Nottingham, and spare a little food for my family."

It was then that I learned of his story. Will Scarlet is, like so many of our townsmen, just another honest farmer trying to make a living. Unfortunately, the sheriff had eyes for his beautiful wife, and had tried many times to get his grubby hands on her. Scarlet naturally refused, and he became a target for the capricious man.

That year. Everything was scarce. We, the officials barely had enough to pass our days. I was, as I will stress this again, oblivious to what was happening outside of my small, pitiful world. I will tell you this again. Will is a good man. He cannot bear to see his family die in front of him. The law had to be broken. That was when I realized that God, whom I serve does not want me to be like this. How can I sit in my office, when His people are suffer?

I had nothing, except for a Bible – this Bible, that I carry with me even now." Tuck continued, pointing at the battered book clasped on his belt.

"I couldn't do anything for this man. This man was innocent. He was not a criminal. His request was legit, and I, for once, was ashamed that I was unable to do anything. Will Scarlet seemed to understand, and he asked me to spend his last moments alone.

I paced outside of his cell. It was then the most obvious method dawned upon me. I inched near him. with a clank, the keys to his shackles fell onto the floor.

"Here. You dropped this."

At that moment, I felt so inferior. What kind of a priest am I? Am I so afraid of tyranny that I was unable or unwilling to do a simple good deed? I picked up the keys with one swoop and unlocked his bonds.

"Go," I shouted, in a dry voice. The prisoner looked at me, not sure of himself.

"Go!" I yelled, licking my dried lips. "Before someone sees you."

He clasped my hand tightly and shook them in gratitude. I watched him leave, knowing that by allowing him to go, I've doomed myself. But I was content. For I finally realized that I've done something right. And I know, deep down, that God approved. That was enough.

A day later, I was sentenced to the same fate. I didn't care. It was all good. I've made peace with man, and more importantly, I've made peace with God. I walked to the gallows with my head straight, knowing that I'll die for the right thing.

What happened next was pretty much a blur, as I was rescued at the gallows by Robin and his band of "Merry Men." Sure enough, this man – Will Scarlet was among them. I was glad to see his face.

"Brother Scarlet," I inquired once we were at a safe location. "How is your family?"

Will's face instantly darkened as he told me the rest of his tale.

When Will returned to his residence, he found his wife and daughter both gone. His small cabin was halfway run to the ground, and all he could find was a scrap of his wife's crimson skirt, where it snagged on a piece of wood. Of his two year old daughter, he could find no trace, except for a small puddle of blood near the doorstep.

Will's burdens are just as bad as yours, Shiro Emiya," Friar Tuck continued.

"Yet he carries on. Do you know why? Let me finish my tale, then you can do as you please.

I was shocked. I didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," was his response. He smiled wanly as he turned around. No tears, no sorrow. Just calm.

"I know that wherever they are, someone much more powerful than me is looking out for them. And I know that if they're alive, I'll get to see them again."

I was struck by Will's faith in people, and in God. It made my own feel insignificant, and it has pushed me; no, inspired me to do better.

"…And if they're not. Well, I'll see them somewhere else then. It's all alright."

I started to move towards the exit in shame.

"Friar, thank you."

I stopped.

"Thank you for giving me a second chance."

At that moment, I can say that I understood him.

"You have a new goal in mind, don't you, Brother Scarlet?"

"That I do," he nodded in affirmation. "To hold onto the present and do what I can to find them."

The Friar ended his story and stopped speaking as he took a chug from his mug.

"I'm done, young man. Do with what you need to do, and what you should do. God'll watch over you."

Humming a cheerful hymn to himself, Friar tuck walked away. Shiro watched the rotund scholar leave. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, nor was he sure about what he was supposed to be feeling right now. He could have continued, but a huge shadowed eclipsed over him.

"Robin and Lady Marian says to Little John that he should bring you this."

Shouldering a huge tote bag, Little John dropped it beside Shiro. With a huge grin, he opened the contents for Shiro to see.

"Little John knows how to eat and how to walk better than anyone else, so Little John packed Shiro some supplies."

"Wow…thanks," Shiro whispered. The bag was full of preserved meats and hardtack. All carefully packed away in what seemed to be a leafy material. A golden emblem with what seemed to be five different beer mugs was on the bag.

"Lady Marian really likes you I think, and Robin does too. They even told Little John to give you one of their enchanted rings so you could come to the Fortress any time," Little John pointed to a little band made out of oak that was tucked away in a corner. This one also had the same gold emblem printed on it. It glowed at Shiro's touch.

"Thank you," Shiro replied as he stood up. He felt a bit better about himself now. "I think I should try to head off now."

"Oh! Before Little John has to leave, Little John tell you secret."

The giant bent down as he leaned forward to Shiro's ear.

"When Little John was little, really little, Little John's mommy tell Little John that there is place that knights go to after they die. She tells Little John to not tell anyone because it is secret."

Shiro's eyes widened just slightly as he listened.

"Little John's mommy say that place is really really beautiful with many many trees and a shining lake in middle. So Little John say to mom that Little John want to be knight when he grows up. Mommy just laughs and tell Little John that Little John too little to become knight. So Little John become woodcutter instead. He still happy. Still, he really wants to see this place.

Little John's mommy tells Little John that place is called Avalon. She also tells Little John that only the pure of heart can find door to it," Little John whispered into Shiro's ear.

"Little John say to mommy, Little John wants to find Avalon. Mommy laughs again and says to Little John that he too nice and simple to find it. So it ok, Little John forgets about it until now."

"If your mommy tells you it's a secret, then why are you telling me this story?"

"Shh, Little John tells Shiro secret because Little John thinks Shiro is pure of heart like mommy says, and if Little John can't see Avalon, then maybe Shiro can do it for him." Little John winked.

"Plus, mommy say Little John really good at reading people's hearts, an' seeing what's on their minds. Little John not as stupid as he looks, so Little John thinks he could help."

"John, dear? C'mon! Robin's waiting for you to start us up!"

"Oops. Little John needs to go now! Bye-bye, Shiro, good luck!"

The giant frowned and leapt to his feet. With one smooth motion that is too agile for his size, he jumped on top of a tree. The trees seemed to unroot before Shiro's very eyes as the forest around him begins to move rapidly. He heard Robin's voice in the distant.

"Sherwood Forest…**Roll out**!"

The trees lined up and began a rapid march. Soon, they disappeared over the horizon. Shiro smiled for the first time since forever, and turned his face towards the rising sun.

_Avalon…_

Refreshed, the young man began his quest anew.

* * *


	11. Never again will we walk alone

Author's Note: Sorry for the short chapter. I'm currently rehashing plot and are moving things around. Once again, thank you all for reading, and reviewing, and for loving Fate/Stay Night!

* * *

The earth shook beneath Berserker's mighty steps. Like a hurricane, his long strides carried him and his small passenger towards his destination. Towards whatever unknown battle that was going to take place.

It had been years since Berserker, no, Hercules last battled as himself. True, there were many times that he raged on without a care in the world. Those, however, lacked reason and sanity. It lacked his warrior spirit. God-hand's power was great, but it robbed him of his very humanity. And now, through some strange force at work, he was himself again. It felt good.

"Berserker! Left turn, nineteen degrees, and fourteen kilometers north!" Ilya called from the top of his shoulders. The little girl's hair bobbed wildly in the night wind. This was no ordinary small child; Berserker knew that. She was small, but she had the mind of a warrior, and the spirit to match as well. She was sometimes cruel, but sometimes benevolent. All in all, a good master that he did not mind serving under. Her sense of direction is also unmatched. Ilya, a supernatural human being is more attuned to the lay lines than he is. Trusting in her judgment, Berserker complied.

This area of Fuyuki is clear. The ancient woods have been felled some twenty years ago in order to make a little path to the nearby lake. A little gazebo sat quietly amid the luminescent shadows of the nearby pine trees, its red roof a striking contrast to the soft colors around it. Berserker breathed deeply as his footsteps slowed. This was the location. Dropping Ilya onto the grass, he pulled his club out and readied himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blur. Berserker's head turned to the gazebo, where his opponent emerged. Much of his body was cloaked in shadows, where not even the pure moonlight could penetrate. The dark contrasted with the light shining overhead as he drew a long, coal black katana from its sheath.

"Welcome to the shores of Fuyuki lake. I have been waiting for a long time."

Hercules grunted. He had a feeling that he knew who this man was. Saying nothing, he stared at his opponent's face in an attempt to discern his identity. The samurai in front of him must have been handsome at one point, but his features were blurred, and his face was pallid. In fact, wherever Berserker looked, it seemed that the man was surrounded by a black mist, unpenetrating even to his divine gaze. He didn't like the idea of that.

"I am Minamoto no Yoshinaka, of the Minamoto clan. To whom have I the honor of addressing?"

"Illyasviel von Einzbern. This is my oversized friend, Hercules," Ilya was quick to respond. She glanced at Yoshinaka curiously, as she sense a form of magic that is all too familiar to her. _This must have something to do with the Grail. _She thought as Berserker took a step forward.

Yoshinaka seemed to be surprised to hear that name, but he carefully disguised his expression. Granted, it was hard to see his face from where the two were standing. After a moment, he carefully spoke.

"Einzbern…Little one, does your family maintain and keep the Holy Grail?"

Ilya smirked. She was right. Gesturing the movements for an analysis spell, she kept her hands behind her back.

"That is correct, Mr. Minamoto," she replied.

"Then…we have no need to fight," Yoshinaka murmured as he lightly stepped down from the gazebo and sheathed his sword. The black mists faded slightly from his armor. His face regained color and his sword once again took on the shine of finely crafted steel. The finely crafted scale armor appeared dim, like something was intentionally covering it up. Nonetheless, the five petals of the Minamoto clan can still be seeing clearly as it shone with a comforting light.

"I have made a mistake," Yoshinaka spoke. "I have made a mistake in siding with the - "

Whatever words that was about to come out of his mouth was silenced as the shadows on his armor crawled back. The samurai could only watch helplessly as he drew his black blade.

"Would I have the chance to redeem myself! These hands are not my own!"

"Berserker! Listen. This guy's going to be kind of like you when we first met," Ilya whispered to the giant standing beside her. "See, my analysis shows that he's dead."

"What?" Berserker rumbled, a little bit peeved that he can't exactly lower his voice. Yoshinaka paid him no heed as he continued with his personal struggle.

"What I mean is that he's not alive like you and I. He's been animated by some powerful magic. See the mists on his armor? That's what keeps him moving and alive. His soul is trapped somewhere, and now he's forced to fight for the Grail."

"The "Holy" Grail," the giant spat as he carefully scanned the fields around him. He knew he had a huge advantage in strength, size, and reach. He wasn't too sure about how his opponent will carry on. Most importantly, he wasn't sure how he could keep Ilya away from trouble.

"Ilya, you stay back. I'll handle this."

"No!" The little girl shouted in indignation. "I can take care of myself."

"This isn't the Grail War any more. I'm no longer a Servant, and you are no longer a Master. The rules are different and you could get hurt."

"Yeah, I know. But so could you. We're a team, remember?"

Those words were so familiar to him. Didn't a long time ago, another youth also told him that they were a team? Or was it so long ago?

A smile came to Berserker's face. He doesn't smile often, but he was happy – happy to be in service of this small one, and happy to be where he is at. Ilya giggled a little as she tried to reach his shoulders and give him a friendly pat, but settled for his calves instead.

"**Raserei Des Schwarzen Holzes!" **She called as an aura of power started to glow around her. Seeing the sight, Yoshinaka straightened his weapon.

"Minamoto no Yoshinaka, Kenzan!" The samurai roared as he sprinted forward and held his weapon in a powerful overhead cut. Meeting him head-on, Berserker stomp forward and extended his club. The two weapons met with a powerful clang.

* * *

In the shadows, a pair watched the battle somewhat warily. Waver, or Lord El-Melloi II shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wincing slightly at the exchange of blows. It was truly a battle of epic proportions, as the two heroes were the epitome of two extremes. Berserker's massive strength and his iron-thick skin was more than a match for Yoshinaka's swift and precise blade techniques. The samurai's sword was a blur as he flipped in midair, nicked the giant's shoulder, withdrew his katana, and sidestepped in one smooth motion before Hercules' gargantuan club came crashing down. He wondered if their cover was good enough. After all, he didn't want to fight either one of these two.

"Relax, kid. Just...relax," Alexander muttered as he watched the battle intently, trying to guess at the warrior's next move.

"What do you thing, King of Conquerors?" Waver asked carefully as his friend's shaggy eyebrows creased. Alexander frowned.

"Mm...most sword users do not maintain sufficient distance between them and their opponents. This Yoshinaka's got guts. If he was even a little slower, he would have been smashed to bits. So far though, our large friend have been staying on the defensive. He may be gauging his opponent's strength, or that he hasn't figured out a way to react yet. "

"Is Berserker slow then, my friend? How is he faring?"

"Surprisingly well, actually," Alexander replied with a small nod. "And kid, can you make your questions any more obvious? Though large hand and arm movements tend to be slower, he's letting his wrist do much of the work... Ah, watch now. Watch as he lure that other guy into a trap."

It was true. Waver noticed that Berserker expertly twisted his hand as the club howled pass from the bottom side of his hand. Yoshinaka's eyes widened in surprise and barely managed to roll out of the way.

"Note the critical difference between the two fighting styles. One of them looks fast, but isn't very fast. The other looks slow, but isn't really slow. Kid, you getting what I'm saying so far?"

Waver stared again. He understood half of it. Berserker was swinging his club at an amazing speed, forcing Yoshinaka out further and further. With a swing, he pushed out a good two feet. With another swing, and the samurai was reduced to dodging and rolling. Soon, he would be cornered.

"This is why. The speed of the weapon may not always be the fastest for some movements, and the size of the weapon may not always be the lightest. But the thing is, the time it takes to complete each movement should be minimal. Sometimes a large weapon, if wielded correctly, can achieve the same level of speed that any smaller arm would have.

Furthermore, look at their footwork. You'll notice that Berserker's is pretty steady and still. He doesn't give ground easily, and he doesn't get it easily. That's alright, since he's making steady advancements. The oriental man, on the other hand is completely dependent on his positioning. You'll notice that in terms of sheer attack strength, he is clearly no match for the big guy. See, the thing is, if he just slowed down a little bit, he'd have an easier time."

"Why?" Waver asked, noticing that Yoshinaka's movements have indeed slowed down.

"Because," Alexander replied amid another clang, "fast speed generally works against you when your opponent is executing a wide sweep or beat. Good swordsmen should use their opponent's inertia and speed against them and to their advantage."

Yoshinaka brought up his black sword into an overhead parry position. With a mighty shout, Berserker brought it down. A titanic clank rang out in the forest as Yoshinaka was driven slightly into the ground. Gasping, he brought his sword up again as the giant lashed out.

"Yeah, ok. This fight'll be over soon. Soon enough. He can't match that big guy's strength."

"Uh..huh. Wow. How did you know about all these sword-fighting techniques?"

"Oh, I bought a fencing manual this morning before we got dropped in the middle of Japan. Barnes and Noble had a 10 precent off on all hardcover, leather bound books. I remembered something about money from last time, so I took your wallet."

Waver instinctively reached down.

"May I have it back please?"

With a smirk, Alexander pulled out a small velvet pouch. He juggled it lightly in his palm.

"Sure. There's really nothing left in it though. But I suppose you could have the baggie back."

"..."

* * *

"I see. So this is your, no, our quest."

Sakura sat cross-legged across Diarmuid as they both studied the other with mutual curiosity. The Celtic hero nodded, twirling his spear absentmindedly. Sakura wasn't the best storyteller, and it took him a while to understand all the names and places that she was referring to.

"Your professor calls them Nodal Fragments, we call them something else – what we call them, that doesn't matter. I know that the druids talk about a powerful tome of legends split into three parts that is vital to the stability of the world. It foretold of a rightful ruler of the lands, and that this mighty lord will unify the kingdom. The first part of the tome is around here. Come to think of it, this is probably why you were sent here."

"That's great. It's wonderful how you know –"

Her question was interrupted by her gasp as Diarmuid leaned in closer and carefully brushed a strand of her hair aside.

"Let me start with a good look at my partner first," he winked.

_Partner?_ Sakura blushed furiously as she held her ground and just stared. He was _quite_ handsome, come to think of it. _And the way he was leaning forward to face her was very, very attractive…_

"Wait – wait, stop. What are you doing?" A little lightheaded but frightened, Sakura asked. Her heart was pounding as the fragrance of roses surrounded her. As if sensing her distress, the hero drew back.

"To activate the _geis. _Not only will we fight alongside each other, but as your champion I am able to draw strength from you and you from me as long as we are within each other's vicinity. Skin contact is required to seal the pact, and normally, we'd do something a little more, ah, active?"

Noticing Sakura's expression, Diarmuid chuckled as he waved airily.

"Worry not, fair one. It was all in good jest. Normally a vow exchanged through holding hands or a kiss will suffice. Is that a more satisfactory answer?"

Sakura blushed again nodded and looked away. She really liked the way he looked, and the way he moved, and the way he talked. She can't get him out of her mind. Why can't Shirou ever be like this -

_Wait, why am I like this? What's happening to me?_ The redness on her cheeks quickly faded as she snapped back into reality. Suddenly, it was as if an enchantment had been broken. She can once again think about other things.

"Sorry…I was staring. I really couldn't help it."

Diarmuid gave a wry laugh as he suddenly took on a more serious demeanor.

"It's not your fault, fair one. I've been "Blessed with suck," as they called it. You see," his voice lowered to a barely audible volume. "I am cursed with a magical ability to make any woman instantly fall in love with me."

"Oh."

"Yeah, you won't believe it. They leap right into my lap and well, I'm the normally the one with self control. Enough to pull them off me, anyways. Except that one time…" Diarmuid trailed off, looking a little sad.

"It's nothing. Nevermind. Shall we go?"

"What happened that one time?" Sakura asked. It was then she saw him for what he was. Despite being a fountain of charisma, and a veritable gentleman, there was something in Diarmuid that was also broken.

"It'll be a long tale, but well, fair one. Only because you asked. It's not a happy tale by all means."

Her name was Grainne, and she was a powerful sorceress of my people. she was the perfect woman. She had dark hair and eyes – kinda like yours, except her hair was not quite that little shade of blue. Anyways, she was a person of tremendous willpower, and she is one of the few in the land who resisted my unnatural charms. I've always admired her from afar, and I'm afraid I let my admiration grew into something that was more than simple admiration. It's confusing, really. Most men are like that, including me. We don't quite understand why we fall in love, but we do. Once we do, it's unthinkable. Luckily, she was going to be married to my liege, King Fionn, and that alone was enough to make me back off.

Trouble is, she saw me for who I was, and fell in love with me – not because of any magic, but because of who I am. Supposedly it was because I listen to women on a consistent basis, or something. Can you believe it, me?" Grinning dryly, Diarmuid slapped his forehead.

"Anyways, so, here's what took the biscuit. She got me drunk one night and told me the next day that she had placed one of her geis on me – one that would allow her one command."

"Let me guess, did she make you fall in love with her?"

"No," Diarmuid replied as a hazy look appeared in his eyes. He spoke the next lines slowly.

"She just wanted me to come see her once more before she was married.

She told me that it didn't matter if I loved her or not. She was only happy when I was around her. It doesn't matter if she couldn't be with me. All she wanted – she could have made me do anything, you know? All she wanted was to look at me one last time. Of course I'd do that. I'd have done that without enchantments.

I came to her, on a rainy evening. The castle was quiet and dark except for a lone candleflame burning in her chambers. She said nothing, but just sat in front of me and looked at me with those large, luminescent eyes. At least, she sighed and told me I may go.

"To where?" I asked.

"I don't know. Somewhere away from me. Away from Fionn's court."

"But I can't," I blurted. "I can't pass the days without seeing you –"

The truth was out. Right then, right now. Both of us realized that we had done a terrible thing. I was the king's warrior. She was the king's bride to be. We sat there, with that one candle between us for the entire evening, neither of us saying a word.

At long last, she stood up and told me that I really needed to go, or else that she will never be able to forgive herself. In that moment, I made the best and the worst decision of my life. I told her how I felt and refused her request. She couldn't believe it. I told her again. We stood there, looking at each other. Our eyes met and we knew that if we did force ourselves to separate, it would be unbearable. No, we had to do something. So did the only thing left to us. We fled from court. Those years on the run were the best years I had in my life."

Smiling, Diarmuid pulled out a neatly kept leather book.

"See this? This is the Book of the Rose. It's her personal spellbook. Other couples get rings. We exchanged book and bracelets. It was harsh on the road – especially with an entire country crawling for your head. But hey, I taught her how to use a spear, and she taught me how to weave the winds. Fionn was furious, of course. And I think he was deeply wounded. How can you not? Your best friend and your bride running out on you like that? Unthinkable!

The hunt for us went on for five years. Then suddenly and unexpectedly, he pardoned us. We were wed, went back to Ciarrai and settled down."

A long pause.

"That's not the end to your story, is it?"

"No, it isn't.

I suppose Fionn never forgave me for what I did. I did everything I can. I carried out all my duties faithfully. And yet, it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

We were out hunting boars. We had cornered the beast when it decided to charge at our raised spears. Knowing that whoever stood before it was bound to suffer grievous wounds, I shoved my king out of the way and leapt in front of it. I should have died there, and then. I should have. But I didn't. i was wounded in the torso, and I had no control over my arms. At first, I wasn't particularly concerned. There was a fountain nearby, and I was confident in the fact that Fionn will save me. That fountain had healing powers, and whoever drank from its waters will be healed no matter what would it was.

Fionn looked at me as an inscrutable expression appeared on his face. He told me he was going to get the water and told me to wait. He promised me, and I believed him, and he …

He never came through with his promise. Turns out, he went directly to Grainne and asked for her hand….or something. I really don't know. I don't remember. It was hazy and I was drifting in and out of consciousness. And she came with the water, but she couldn't give it to me – Fionn must have struck her in rage or something. Collapsing on the ground nearby, her blood stained the grass crimson. Yet she still tried to save me as she pushed the cup away from towards me, inch by inch."

Diarmuid was silent for a moment. His voice was a little hoarse as he continued.

"Sakura, I hope you will never see what I had to see. She gave up her life…for me. And that still wasn't enough. At the end, she didn't have the strength to push it further.

"_Sorry, my… love."_

I'll never forget the look on her face. The anguish she felt…she thought she had failed me, and that maybe if she did a little more, she could have altered the outcome. That pained expression will be forever branded into my mind. I couldn't speak, but how I wanted to tell her that no, it was enough. You were always enough for me, and anything you do was good enough.

But I couldn't. And I watched her life ebb away until finally, her shallow breathing stopped. What's more, I noticed Fionn. Apparently, he just stood there and watched the whole thing. At any moment, he could have saved us. But he didn't. Was this his way of taking retribution?

I was loyal to my heart, and this was my outcome. My faith rewarded me with betrayal. My loyalty earned me scorn. I was used. Used by everyone."

Diarmuid cried out as he plunged his spear into the earth.

"Grainne….you should have saved yourself. Why didn't you? _Why didn't you?_"

It was then he felt a gentle hand placed on his shoulder. Turning around to face Sakura, he couldn't help but notice that her hair glistened in the evening.

"Diarmuid, you may not believe this. _ But I know exactly how you feel."_

In that dark night, underneath the flickering flame. Someone said that to him a long time ago, didn't she?

"_We're kindred spirits, aren't we? We both placed our loyalties in misguided sources. "_

He nodded. Maybe he had been given a new chance.

"…_I could share your pain, and you could share mine…"_

Yes, it was like that too. On that night.

"…Never again will we walk alone."

Diarmuid whispered quietly. A faint light glowed between his hand and Sakura's as the girl flashed him a knowing smile. Now, he was once again a champion with a lady to protect. And protect he will. He'll teach her whatever she wanted to know. With a little luck…He didn't want to go there. Not just yet, anyways.

Behind them, faraway, a shrouded figure nodded in approval. Its green garments billowed in the breeze as it faded silently into the ground.

* * *

For the people of Uruk, this night was like any other night. Peaceful, quiet. The lazy evening breeze blew past family doorways. The streets were once again lit. it was like the calamities that just occurred a few weeks ago never happened. The only reminder to the strange event were the damaged walls and broken homes. For now, they could enjoy a moment of respite; a moment of relaxation.

A drum sounded in the distant. Suddenly, the peaceful atmosphere was dissipated. Heads turned and muscle tensed. Another drum rang out, its low-pitched cry echoing through the now-crowded streets. The king was summoning them. Something dire was happening.

As the people milled about in the city square, atop the Ziggurat, Gilgamesh paced. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to present this to his people. Regardless, he was going to try. He turned as the city elders gathered in front of him. With a casual brush, he parted the curtains that guarded his domain and stepped into the balcony.

The people gaped and cheered. It was rare for them to be granted an audience with the king. Not to mention, they have never seen their king in his full armor before. Gilgamesh's elaborate golden mail was wondrous to behold. The plates clinked lightly as he stepped forward. Clink, clink. His crimson eyes flashed briefly as he held out his right hand, signaling for silence. The crowd instantly hushed.

"Citizens, countrymen, my loyal subjects," the Golden King began.

"Much have transpired in our great city as of late. Mysterious fires, dark creatures, strangers from a foreign land. The reappearance of the ancient prophet. The resurgence of arcane activities. I feel that as king, I owe everyone an explanation.

You know, or should know, that I am a prideful man. My pride led me to many, many pitfalls. It is also that same pride now that may now be our downfall."

"My king," an elder of the city stepped forward. "I do not understand, what have you done - "

The elder's eyes met the king's cool gaze and lapsed into silence.

"As a select few of you know, I have elected to join in the Heaven's Feel a few years ago. The greatest artifact of mankind is also now its greatest enemy. As my rival destroyed the Holy Grail, so did she unwittingly set our doom. The Grail decided, at the moment of its demise to reverse reality. Thus, it escaped destruction and came to our realm. Our world. In accord to the Precepts of Destiny, it must eliminate those who were present in the Heaven's feel in order to achieve its purpose of self preservation. The natural thing for it to do, then is to wipe the magical heroes, or Servants, from existence. This is why the fires occurred in the palace. I was its first target.

You may ask: that is all well and good. Why blame yourself, O king? The answer is simple. I broke the tablet of heroes. A few of you may have heard of the legend. It is a tablet containing all the essences of human history. Regardless, I have done something terrible. In essence, I have declared war on the Holy Grail through that action. The Precept of Destiny operate on pure logic and reasoning. Unfortunately, in my attempt to augment my own powers, I have instilled in the Grail a monstrous instinct. According to the laws, it now must treat every legend – yes, you, me, them; we are all part of legends and stories – as something that needs to be erased from reality."

Suddenly, one soldier ran out from the crowd. Foaming at the mouth, he gibbered loudly.

"It's true!! The shadow-creatures that you may have seen lurking around are agents of this power. They move with one purpose only: the annihilation of mankind. Even as we speak now, an army moves against us!"

A fearful murmur ran across the crowd. Here and there, the hushed cries of small children can be heard. Terror was in many pairs of eyes as they looked desperately to him, waiting for something, anything that may alleviate their fear. The soldier who delivered the fear-inducing message lie dead on the floor.

Gilgamesh said nothing. He looked at the ring of authority on his finger and played with it. He beckoned to his advisor as he stalked back into the curtains.

"Tell them I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

Plopping down in a nearby cushioned chair, the king of heroes looked at his own reflection on the floor blankly. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life. He was powerful. The Grail must play by the rules – it must destroy his realm through physical, metalogical, and tangible means. But how was he supposed to stand against an army? His men know nothing about the magical arts. With a long sigh, he buried his head in his hands.

He was human too. Even with such a large degree of divinity, he was still very much human. Limited by human weaknesses and emotions. Including one that he isn't used to – uncertainty and doubt.

The battle for Uruk was doomed from the start. The allied reinforcements will be too late to make any significant impact. And if he falls, the history of men will fall as well. He sighed again. Perhaps it was destiny. What is done is done.

"Get up, you stupid idiot!"

Gilgamesh blinked. It was then that he felt the stinging force of a slap. A raging Rin Tohsaka was towered over him. Moving with the grace of a lioness, her miniskirt flared as she brought herself up to her full height.

"Look at yourself! Just what do you think you're doing, talking like that?"

"You don't get it, do you? It's lost. There is no - "

_She slapped me. Twice!_

"Listen to me. We don't need a damned moping fool! We need Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes!"

"I..."

Utnapishtim emerged from behind Rin and patted him gently on the back.

"Terrible odds, it is. But take heart, student! Zero is zero. One is not zero. Try, and succeed you might. Fail, and you fail. But no succeed if there is no try."

Rubbing his face slightly, Gilgamesh stood up.

"Precept of Destiny, altered it has. Look at these around you. Young, they may be. But so are you. There is still a chance."

"But I've already declared our doom."

"Then go out there and show them otherwise. Tell them to believe. Tell them to believe in a future; tell them to believe that the sun will rise tomorrow," Rin continued.

"Tell them to believe, and it will happen. That's how things gets done in our world. Believe, as we believed, and miracles will happen." Archer emerged from the shadows. He flicked a small object at Gilgamesh, who caught it with one hand. He stared at it with bewilderment on his face.

"The key – but how?"

Utnapistim winked but said nothing. Instead, he pulled out a large tome and began reading it.

Below the palace, the crowd murmured. What were they to do? Was the army going to protect them? Where could they go? Where was safety? Some wanted to just hide in their homes, and spend the last of their days with their families. Some others are panicking openly. Even the warriors show signs of unrest as their brave hearts are clouded with doubt. What were they to do?

"Soldiers of Uruk. Hear me."

Gilgamesh strode onto the platform. A magnificent golden aura radiated from him as the night was temporarily illuminated with auric light.

"This is your moment of truth. You will not fear. You will not falter. You will not give one inch of ground to the enemy."

"But sir! We have seen it with our very eyes, they are -"

Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed dangerously as he snapped his fingers. Immediately, an arc of light shot through the night sky, narrowly avoiding impaling the poor soldier who had even dared to suggest such a thing.

"Do you doubt the words of your king?"

"No, sir..."

"Clarify."

"No, sir!" The soldiers roared.

"Good." Turning around to the citizenry, Gilgamesh continued.

"Men and women of Uruk, my people!" He added, as an afterthought. "War is upon us, as I have said many times. The enemy is at our doorstep and thinks he can destroy us here, in our homes. He is already gloating. He can taste his victory. Even now, he is among us."

The body of the soldier who spread the rumors was instantly struck with fourteen consecutive strikes of different Noble Phantasms. With a hiss, the body melted into a pool of dark matter, which then slowly faded away under the piercing light.

"But what he fails to see is that we will make this his last meal. My people. Listen. They are monsters. True. They are powerful, true. But as you have just seen, they can be destroyed. All it takes is God's greatest gift to mankind – the gift of hope."

Gilgamesh gestured as the Gates of Babylon opened behind him. Countless Noble phantasms glittered against the evening backdrop. Swords, spears, axes, lances, bows, pole-arms, and other weapons that cannot be named slid slowly from their sheaths. The very reality shifted around the ripples of ethereal matter.

"This is my treasury, in which you have only heard of, but never seen; you have only toiled in darkness, but never known of its power. This is the greatest collection of mankind's achievements. This is our strength.

Citizens. It is late, and you should be returning to your homes. However, before you leave, know this. I, as your king, shall be your bulwark against the incoming tide!"

The crowd cheered. A small glimmer in their eyes as they nodded in true appreciation.

* * *

Something didn't feel right.

Robin scanned the outskirts of the forests as the Mobile Fortress Sherwood lumbered forth. He knew from past experiences that whenever there was silence nearby, something bound was going to be happening.

There! There it was. In the clearing strangely devoid of all vegetation. A cage with a …villager in it?

"Hum. Oh dear Robin? You better look at it again carefully. Something doesn't quite feel right here." Marian commented as she pointed at the unsettling slight.

"Well, can't hurt to take a look. Looks like some poor chap's been stuck in that thing for quite a while. He's barely breathing," the leader of the Merry Men commented as he pulled out a pair of binoculars.

"John, get on the statistics. Will, ready armaments. Tuck –"

"ISH A TRAPS! I TELLSH JOO IT ISH TRAPP! TRAP!" The Friar poured himself another mug of ale as he plopped down in his chair. Marian shrugged.

"Well, love, the friar's never been wrong before."

Nodding, Robin pulled a lever as he fired an acorn from a nearby hidden turret. The villager didn't even flinch.

"Hm. Yup. Definitely a trap. That acorn was going at nine hundred miles per hour. Alright, comrades! Let us sit and wait! It seems that there's some fighting to be done for the day!"

His comment was met with enthusiasm as the outlaws prepared themselves for an ambush.

Meanwhile, hidden in the woods…

"What sort of unholy creature is that thing?" A heavily armored monk asked the monk crouched next to him.

"That…is the unholy demonic infested evil thing known as the demonic Treant of demons. It is haunted by demons and obviously captained by more demons. It takes on the appearance of many trees, or one big tree, or one really big tree with arms and legs – like it's doing now."

"Witchcraft, clearly. In service of the foul demons?"

"Indeed. It must be witchcraft. We should be engaging this evil head on. Is this the evil we were looking for?"

"I don't know, brother. It did attack our straw effigy with great demonic might, shooting a foul demonic projectile into it."

"Brother! The Demon is moving!" A monk shouted.

"Then we shall take the battle to it! To me, brothers! CHARGE!"

* * *

"Squirrels report that we have been surrounded by a regiment of heavily plated but bald human soldiers. They are apparently the remainders of the Order of the Hammer, a group of militant monks and there is talk of setting fire to the Fortress. Apparently, they think we're demons.

"That explains that ridiculously large warhammers they're holding."

"Actually, Robin, I know their leader. Brother Amadeus. The tall one? See him standing there? Really a nice guy. Just sorta crazy at time. They're good, solid folks. But their brains work strictly on a on-off basis."

"You mean the one that just got doused with Tuck's ale as he tried to light Sherwod, Will?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Remember Sherwood's got an inane defense mechanism against fire anyways, so it probably wouldn't work."

"**Silly monks. Mobile Fortress Sherwood immune to fire."**

"Easy, old friend, easy. Let's see what's happening – OOH, ouch. That didn't go well –" Robin winced as a monk tried to run up the roots and was promptly swatted away by a powerful branch. A chorus of "witchcraft! Witchcraft!" rang out as the monks leapt out of the woods with hammers drawn.

"Brothers! Advance cautiously; this demon is large and very leafy!" A tall monk shouted as he waved his hammer and beckoned his fellow monks onward.

The battle was relatively uneventful as the Mobile Fortress repelled its invaders with acorn, pinecone and branch. Taking great pains in not injuring any of the monks, the great mobile weapon wondered if he should be pointing out something more obvious.

"**Robin. Should we maybe tell them we aren't hostile, and that we're on THEIR side?"**

"…Nah," Marian piped in. "They should figure it out eventually."

The ancient fortress huffed. Its leaves shook in indignation as the monks rushed at it again.

* * *

"Brother, rally around me for another charge! We shall be rid of these accursed acorns and fruits of unholy demonic influence!" The tall monk yelled.

"But brother! The demon tree does not attack us, perhaps it is not demonic?"

The tall monk paused for a moment and thought carefully.

"Well, brother. By all means it appears to be a tree," he muttered. "Brothers! Gather around me. Let us discuss our enemy. What is it? To me, it looks like a tree. Plenty of branches and leafy stuff."

"Smells like a tree – it has with all the fine fragrances of oak, pine and spruce." The short monk added.

"Feels like a tree. It's barky." Shouted a monk with a particularly large hammer.

"I hear squirrels and other forestly creatures and also the wind blowing amongst the branches. Definitely sounds like a tree. Taste like a tree too, Ptooey!" growled another monk as he spat out a leaf.

"Brother, what do you think?" asked the short monk cautiously. He hefted his hammer and glanced around warily. The tall monk scratched his bald head.

"Hm. Tastes like a tree. Looks like a tree, smells like a tree, feel like a tree, sounds like a tree, but it doesn't burn like a tree…"

**"IT MUST BE A DEMON! ONWARD, MY BROTHERS! WE SHALL NOT REST UNTIL IT IS VANQUISHED! THE FORCES OF DARKNESS MUST BE DEFEATED!!"**

Everyone in the Mobile Fortress Sherwood groaned as they watched the monks renew their attack with righteous fury.

* * *

"How long do you think they'll stop thinking we're demons?" Marian yawned. She had switched out of her combat gear and into her usual attire of blouse and short skirt. The monks had been hammering at Sherwood for the entire afternoon and she had missed her afternoon capnap.

"Well, we are here a day early, in fact, we passed Lancelot's crew on the road, I think." Robin commented as he sipped his ale. He really didn't mind Marian clinging on top of him during his watch. The extra weight – and Marian – makes him a lot more alert than usual.

"They'll stop thinking we're demons when real ones show up."

The outlaw and the maiden turned to see Will Scarlet.

"Robin, Marian. According to this, we have found our opponents. They're actually behind us and ahead of Lancelot's group. I believe that they intend to cut the knights off."

"Hm, this could be problematic. The Once and Future King is there, isn't it?

Being dangerously genre-savvy, Robin knew that The Once and Future King must be something important. He would even guess that it is part of the three-piece tome that makes up England's nodal fragment. The loss of any one would be devastating.

"You get my drift, my friend?"

"Yes, yes, but how are you going to walk out of the Fortress? The monks will mob you on sight."

"Oh, Brother Amadeus knows me. I'll be fine!"

Marian gave Robin a knowing glance and shook her head as she got out of his lap and walked towards the storeroom.

"**Not if he thinks you are demon. Like he thinks I am demon. You could be demon disguised as Will Scarlet." **

"…You know, Will, Sherwood's got a point there."

The sound of a jar being broken can be distantly heard. Then they heard Marian whistle. Will chuckled.

"Yeah, well. Got a better idea?"

"Actually, dear. Try this."

Marian appeared in the control room doorway with a large, brown cube. She gave Robin a wink as the latter's eyes widened in recognition. Stifling a grin, Robin covered his face and turned away.

"What the hell is that thing?"

"It's a box. You'll hide under here and move around in it."

Will's eyebrows twitched.

"You gotta be crazy! A five year old can see through that trick!"

"Of course, dear. But we aren't dealing with five year olds. We're dealing with your monk friends."

"…You've got a point there."


End file.
